


Icebreaker

by NoMoreTears707



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: A little of suspense, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Angst, Canon Divergence, Drama, Erwin before being commander, Erwin's past, ErwinxMarie mentioned, FarlanxLevi mentioned, Gay!Levi, Hope, Hurt/Comfort, Levi's Past, Levi's cleaning issues, Levi's life in the Underground, M/M, Mentions of homophobia in that world, Mentions of panic attacks with another name, More characters in the future, Mutual Pining, Pre-Canon, References to Depression, Romance, Sexual Content, Slow Burn, Some Fluff, Some politics, Violence (SNK style), ackerbond, bi!Erwin, non-binary Hanji Zoe, post-ACWNR
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-04
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 00:21:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 31
Words: 152,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21668140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoMoreTears707/pseuds/NoMoreTears707
Summary: Erwin will be the next commander in a very short time; Levi has lost everything that mattered to him. Their lives are changing; they are heading together toward that landscape painted with mysteries that is on the other side of the walls. The problem will arise when those changes, by reviving old memories, make their minds tortured by past, guilt and fear waver in front of the uncertain. Perhaps, what they need to move forward is to know they can trust someone else.What they don't know is that, in order to build that trust, they will need to undress themselves body and soul before the other, doing so to face the unexpected chain of events that will turn their expectations and dreams upside down.Because only a living heart can fully feel the freedom that awaits them at the end of the battle.***Eruri, Pre-SNK, Post-ACWNR. A story about how the bond of trust, respect, admiration and devotion between Erwin and Levi was born during the war against titans.Canon Divergence!
Relationships: Levi/Erwin Smith
Comments: 359
Kudos: 629





	1. I

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Rompehielos](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21643744) by [NoMoreTears707](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoMoreTears707/pseuds/NoMoreTears707). 



> If you clicked this link and are reading this, THANK YOU. ♥️
> 
> ~~~
> 
> In case you have any questions, or if you just want to chat about SNK and Eruri, you can contact me on Twitter (@NMTears707) and Tumblr (@nomoretears-707). ♥️♥️♥️

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Icebreaker: a strong ship designed to break a way through ice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to unchecked-unneeded for helping me with my English! You saved me, thanks forever!
> 
> Reader, if you opened this link and are seeing this, THANK YOU. ♥

It's never children's fault, it will never be. The irresponsible, those who have known how to cultivate evil, those who have no idea how stupid their _genius_ is, those who play god with lightness that only ignorance enables, those who believe that war is the answer.

Adults.

It's their fault.

These children, eaten while they scream and cry and regret having trusted adults; it's not their fault.

It's the fault of those shits who are out there, lurking, using weapons instead of their brains, instead of their hearts.

It's their fault, yes.

It will always be.

.

.

.

PART ONE

**I**

—October 21, 844—

**H** e has spent enough time with commander Shadis to know it: with every day, every mission that passes, his face deteriorates a little more. Lately, he's been terribly exhausted. Also, unfortunately, the walls are thin and Erwin occupies the closest room to his, so he knows firsthand that nightmares are increasingly recurring.

Soon, Erwin understands it: their commander will resign. It may take a few months, a few expeditions, but he will.

What he didn't expect, until a moment ago, was that the confirmation would arrive so soon:

"You'll be in charge in a few months, Erwin," the commander tells him at the end of a new meeting in his office, between heaps of reports from the last expedition.

Erwin contains the irremediable need to smile.

“Pardon?" he whispers while he continues to check the draft of a report that Shadis himself gave him an hour ago. His face before the commander remains immutable, and he instead asks, "What do you mean by…?"

Shadis chuckles. He stands up, turns his back as he approaches to the window and, looking at him through the weak reflection that it returns, he continues: 

"Come on: I know who you are, I know how you are and you can't fool me with that face." Erwin can't help but blink when he hears him. Damn. "You're ready to be in charge of the Survey Corps, you want my resignation more than anything. And you know what? It's okay. You've prepared yourself a lot for this, haven't you?"

With the same face as before, checking the draft and nothing more, Erwin nods.

"I've done it, sir."

"Then, mentalize yourself: you'll occupy my chair soon."

Erwin holds his breath without realizing it. The suddenness of the announcement has taken away all his ability to reason, to give the idea, to assimilate that he has reached the place he has pointed to since _that_ day. 

The one in which he ruined everything forever. 

"I don't remember other resignations," Erwin mentions, gathering his breath again, "it's not the custom among the commanders of the Survey Corps."

A laugh, and Shadis' reflected look hardens.

"I survived long enough to know that it would have been better to die in combat."

Erwin's eyes widen when he hears him. He's not able to understand the weight of these words, not yet. 

"Will you leave the Military?" Erwin asks not without hesitation, caught in the commander's gaze.

Shadis smiles at him through the reflection.

"I'll train recruits, I think."

"A man of your experience will do it fantastically."

"Don't play smart with me: you still have a lot to learn, so I'll take advantage of my last months to practice with you." He turns to Erwin, finally, and smiles confidently, without glimpses of mockery or falsehood. "I'll show you what you still need to learn." 

Without further ado, the commander returns to his chair and continues with the reports. Erwin tries to concentrate on his work, but two things prevent him from doing so: the severe look in the reflection, the last sentence. 

How much does he still needs to learn?

He sighs and tries to reconnect with the report: Titans' behavior, number of abnormals, average size, dead soldiers, outstanding soldiers.

Levi, last name unknown: seven titans killed individually, no titan killed in team…

"That kid, the thug," Shadis says.

"Levi," Erwin answers with his eyes fixed on that name, written by his hand on the paper.

"He has killed eighteen titans on three expeditions: I don't remember a similar number in another rookie, at least not individually."

"Me neither."

"He's mastered every single difficult subject perfectly. His talent is historically unprecedented." Shadis stops, almost breathless, amazed while he looks at nothing in particular, perhaps remembering Levi slaughtering titans in front of him. 

Erwin feels kind of proud.

"He's amazing," he says with more sincerity than he can recognize.

"He'll be valuable if you manage to tame him, Erwin: he's still very young, and his problematic personality is directly proportional to his talent." Shadis pushes the reports ready for archiving to the right, and he takes the stack of the ones to be checked. “It's a pity that the other two have died on their first expedition: that trio would have gained notoriety among people very, very fast, and their example would have attracted more recruits; as a squad, they had overwhelming potential. But that Levi surpassed his comrades: he's an abnormal within humans, but like all abnormal he's unpredictable.” 

_Wise description_ , Erwin thinks without altering a millimeter of his gesture. Levi is an abnormal among humans, his ability surpasses all known, including those of legends of the Survey Corps. With so little time, the bar so high, even more than Erwin himself calculated! Eighteen titans since he was recruited six months ago: that record will be difficult to overcome in just three expeditions. 

But yes: like every abnormal, Levi is unpredictable.

"He'll be one of your priorities as the future commander," Shadis tells him as an order, "we need him. Before I leave, I need to make sure you'll be able to tame him."

Is he capable? Erwin finishes the report and gives it to Commander Shadis before standing up.

"I will," he replies.

Shadis nods and dismisses him. There's no more paperwork, finally.

Walking towards his room, Erwin avoids the look of the reflection and the enigmatic words; he focuses on Levi and the concept that Shadis has introduced to him, something that is easy for him, surprisingly. Thinking about Levi is easy these days. 

Will he able to tame him?

His wings are real, he has seen them with his own eyes; Levi has the potential to become a breaking point for the Survey Corps and therefore for all mankind. His technique is different but effective, and the charisma he has, the presence he has, all can lead him to be a new legend. 

He may be hurrying, he cannot lose direction with this. Initially, after the first expedition, he thought that perhaps it had been mere good luck, that the fury provoked that massacre on the battlefield, the overwhelming adrenaline of having lost his best friends in such a cruel way. 

But it didn't.

Two more expeditions and the average has only increased.

The next day, during the training sessions, Erwin checks once again that there is no mistake, that he's not marveling too much, that the light that comes off Levi is not blinding him. The wood replicas immersed in the forest are not real titans, but the fact that Levi doesn't leave even one of the ten standing in record time…

"He's a monster," Nanaba says in a tiny voice, devoid of her usual composure and seriousness. Levi always seems to cause the same as he swings through the skies. "How can he move that fast? It's as if the vertical maneuvering equipment is part of his body, one more extension, as if it were…”

"A pair of wings," Erwin answers watching how Levi uses the equipment to return to the starting point, moving with an almost touching skill, with an elegance that moves him, as if his movements were a piece of art. "He should save some gas, maybe, but with each time he economizes his moves more. He has taken criticism well: his speed is inhuman." 

"He has his style, but his squad leader has told me that he doesn't pay attention to his teammates," Mike says, standing next to Nanaba. "He got along perfectly with Church and Magnolia, but it seemed he was the one who taught them how to use the equipment: it was obvious in their style, or so I got to observe. The three of them could read their movements and understand each other outside the wall. It seems that is not the case with the rest.“

Good point: his style is unpredictable, Erwin thinks, and that could endanger his squadmates eventually. 

Maybe it's a good idea to supervise him personally, take him with his squad on the next expedition. 

"We have time to analyze it," Erwin concludes.

Between the sunlight and the shadows that the trees draw on the ground, Levi walks with a stoic gesture between stunned onlookers. He walks firmly, with the bearing of the most experienced soldier, and he watches only one person while he walks.

Him.

Erwin looks at him too, serious.

How indifferent, but how curious too: Levi doesn't talk to anyone, Erwin looks at him enough to know; he neither seems to rest much or so it seems considering the dark bags under his eyes; everything about him indicates that he has no interest in those around him.

But he always listens, always follows, always obeys when Erwin is the one who gives the order.

Erwin barely hears his voice beyond that; he hardly socializes with him, except when Levi cleans the office he occupies in the barracks, the one he uses to work on his strategies: he enters, cleans and leaves, no matter if he's there or he's not. Erwin has already noticed a certain obsession with cleaning in him, who personally cleans much of the barracks, so he had no way of opposing; he let him be without saying a word. Knowing that being in the Survey Corps, having a hobby is always a positive thing. 

For Levi, perhaps even more so, as he lost everything on that first, fatal expedition. 

There's something about Levi that intrigues him, Erwin discovers for the umpteenth time when he thinks about it: he's unpredictable. He is when he fights and he is during his daily life. His eyes, made of colorful silver ice, seem impenetrable. 

It's impossible to know what he's thinking, and that worries him.

"Well done, Levi," Erwin says as a congratulation. Nanaba and Mike, although visibly uncomfortable in his presence, nod. “Your speed is unmatched, and the power of your attacks is accurate in each case. You are conserving more gas. Keep it up, don't stop learning how to economize.”

Levi neither perturbs nor nods or makes gestures of respect; after hearing his words, he leaves. Around him, everyone whispers. 

_He fights like ten soldiers in one. No! 50. They say he killed three without touching the ground. Were there not five? I think they exaggerate. They don't exaggerate! Didn't you see his speed?! No titan could get rid of that strange spin he does. I want to do that too! But how awkward to grab the blade like that. That is to say_ …

Gossips. 

"They shouldn't flatter him so much," Mike says, disturbing with his voice the echo of the whispers. "Excess of pride is never positive in the Survey Corps."

Is Levi the type that is carried away for flattering comments? Dealing with his ego will surely be part of making sure he accomplishes his mission: he has to tame him.

But how, if those eyes are ice and his plan depends on reading through them?

.

.

.

Days pass, one after another; they become weeks, and inertia becomes, in turn, the protagonist of his life.

Shit, a literal one. 

He sits in the corner of the room he shares with three recruits. The one that is tall and has a weird hairstyle, the one with a constipated face and the one with big thick lips that masturbates at least five times a night. He doesn't speak with them nor do they speak to him; they look at him half with admiration and half with fear.

Better like this.

None of the three have dared to ask him why he doesn't sleep in his bed, but in a chair next to the window; the three know that he only sleeps two hours, no more than that, and they have spread it well among the recruits, it seems.

He's tired of all the whispers, of all the shit that everyone spreads, that dirties everything around him.

 _Levi is like a cork of a wine bottle, but he's inhumanly strong! They say he killed eight! Or was it ten? As if it mattered! The point is that he's better than the best! They say that he's better than that soldier and that other soldier and that he moves better than that soldier and that his technique is better than that of_ …

It's shit. Pure shit coming from shit.

He sits in the chair and closes his eyes, with his legs and arms crossed. He sleeps sitting because, for some reason, it prevents him from seeing the dead faces of those he has lost.

He checks the report in his mind: in two days, thanks to the larger budget that Erwin's tactic has conferred them from the pigs in the capital, they can go on a new expedition. He'll go with Erwin, precisely, as he has been warned today.

"I need to analyze your team performance," he explained that same afternoon when he summoned him to his office. "We are concerned about your ability to interact with others: your technique is different from the one we teach, and while we don't deny its effectiveness, at the same time we need adequate feedback outside the wall."

"Wouldn't it be easier to try it in a drill?" Levi asked, bored with the conversation.

"Unfortunately, there are many maneuvers that we can only analyze properly with real titans," Erwin replied.

The commander, meanwhile, nothing; he just stood by the window, watching him. Half with admiration, half with fear.

As everyone looks at him.

All except Erwin Smith.

The speech that he gave him between steam and blood that fateful June afternoon in which he lost everything still rumbles inside him: to see beyond, to not remain blinded, to use his strength to help humanity; all the respect that throbbed in his chest upon hearing him is what resonates most, which rides him through the fog of this senseless inertia.

It's the only thing that fills him, the only thing that reminds him why he's alive: the desire to fight for something bigger than him, than all what he knows.

That's how transcendental the truth is for a man born in the cradle of lies, of the most inhuman injustice that reigns within the walls.

If fighting allows him to change that lie, then…

He remains convinced to follow Erwin Smith in his cause; the respect that beats in his chest remains intact. However, he begins to feel uncomfortable in his presence.

He takes a deep breath settling on the chair: Erwin Smith makes him nervous. 

He's skilled, exemplary, nobody questions him, and during lunch and dinner, he usually hears increasingly strong rumors about commander Shadis' supposed resignation, which, theoretically, will place Erwin at the top of the Survey Corps. It provokes admiration in all his comrades, his presence fills all the space around him and his ideas are almost revolutionary: the bastard is spotless and no one seems to fear him. 

Erwin Smith turns bright, neat, everything he touches. 

He's not envious about it: being loved or admired or respected or whatever it will never be important to him, it's not his style, it's not what he learned in his years in the Underground, where the priority was to be strong, not famous. But something in Erwin Smith bothers him. Something in his serious gesture, in the opulence of his speech, in his attitude and polite gestures bothers him too much, to a point that begins to baffle him, which he had never experienced before, that keeps him both away and close to him, in an absolute contradiction. 

But anything, even that strange discomfort, keeps him away from Isabel's bloody face in the rain, dead forever, just like Farlan, half of his body the only remnants of what he was. 

He curls up in himself; in doing so, no nightmare invades him, but he can't sleep like that, not today.

_La la la la, la la la la la la, la la la la la laaa…_

He opens his eyes as he swears to hear _that_ voice; a pressure in his chest empties his lungs for a moment.

Maybe that's why he doesn't have nightmares when he sleeps seated: it's the only way he could learn to sleep after _that_ day.

Levi fights the urge to hum, tries to remember the life lessons that Kenny gave him before abandoning him forever: _the strongest survive, the only thing that ensures survival is violence._

 _Violence empowers us_.

And it doesn't.

The only thing that comforts him in moments like this, when nobody sees him and the music plays inside his head, is to allow himself to be weak.

He rests his feet on the chair and hugs his knees. He sinks his face into his thighs showing no feeling, just as Kenny taught him: _If you allow your enemy to read you, he will crush you sooner or later. Better put on the worst face, the worst of all, that face you put when you smell some dirty, disgusting shit, to give them something to fuck you with_. 

To move forward, where Erwin Smith stands, neat under the brightest sun, it's the only thing that can take him far enough from the darkness that reigns with an iron fist inside him. 

There's no longer a past to look at.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! My idea is to update every two/three weeks. This is a translation (of my own story), so I will give my best!
> 
> I have no idea if anyone's going to read this, but, well, I want to have a good time! I'm crazy about Eruri and they are the biggest reason why I'm writing this little fic! They are very demanding muses, a huge challenge, and they make me very happy!!! I just wanted to share my love with you, if there's someone on the other side of the screen... :')
> 
> I hope you like it! Thank you! ♥ ♥ ♥


	2. II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for my English, please! I gave my best!

**II**

Entering the wall after an expedition is the most unpleasant part of what it means to belong to the Survey Corps, even though Erwin has promised, long ago, not to give it any more importance than it deserves: people don't need to shout at them for being useless and taking advantage of their taxes to lower their morale.

Looking at them as they do, overloaded with this contempt and rejection, is enough.

Ignoring them under a serious, impenetrable face, he raises his eyes to the man in front of him: Commander Shadis' shoulders have always inspired him respect, since his days as a recruit, as they were always upright, proud, inflated by an implacable idealism.

They've been looking like that for a long time now: shrunk.

Defeated.

Keith Shadis is no longer the man Erwin knew, the one he looked at from afar and with longing for on his first expeditions, as only the best walked around him. At that time, he wanted to grow, to survive each time, to gain experience and a more respectable position.

He wanted to be the next commander.

He wanted to find out the truth.

But now…

He moves his eyes from Shadis to the reins of his horse. At what point did being the commander become his ambition? Perhaps, there is no specific one, just the obvious one: although he sometimes lies to himself, although altruism always prevails, his goal remains one in particular. To be the commander of the Survey Corps is the natural path to that goal, the truth for which he's willing to die.

The only thing that keeps him on his feet right now.

"That guy, the short one…"

"That one?!"

"Yeah. Some people say he killed eleven titans on his first expedition."

"What?!"

"I can't believe it!"

"But he's just a midget!"

"If that's true, he must be humanity's strongest soldier."

Ignorance has its charm at times like this: Erwin doesn't know that this will be the first time he hears such words directed at his greatest discovery, the one that, whenever it appears, fills him with a pride he doesn't deserve to feel.

He looks at Levi with his usual dissimulation: he goes to his right, serious, annoyed, and seems to be the soldier who best ignores people's comments.

He smiles mentally as he thinks about it: it’s as he has foreseen. Levi doesn't succumb to the power of flattery.

One problem less.

Levi has killed eight titans; in doing so, perhaps unwillingly or perhaps willingly, he has saved the lives of almost an entire squad, the one that was right behind theirs, attacked by titans who came out of nowhere.

Levi is amazing, the abnormal that Shadis described, the wings of freedom that Erwin expected him to be. Levi is the revolution.

The perfect tool to fulfill his dreams. Humanity’s greatest weapon.

A woman throws an egg at the commander while she screams and cries for the son she just lost. Around Shadis, some soldiers protest, defend him, ask for calm; he maintains the silence that perfectly matches his shoulders, which are falling more and more.

Is that what he needs to learn? Is it the hatred in people's eyes that he has to get used to?

But no, he swears; no. It won't be like that with him.

With Levi on his side, history has no right to repeat itself, that of a commander succumbing in the arms of madness, with fallen shoulders, defeated by the tragedy that he hasn't been able to stop on the other side of the wall.

.

.

.

He finishes cleaning the room and sits in the chair in which he sleeps. He breathes in the cleanliness of the environment, swears that the tension in his body is going down, that it vanishes.

It doesn't.

Levi opens the window again, holds on to the bottom edges, breathes. Inhale, exhale, repeat, repeat, repeat.

Eight napes cut and surrounded by steam; blood that evaporates, but leaves that foul smell on his skin. The body of the soldier he couldn't save, incomplete right in front of his feet.

Isabel, Farlan; the inevitable reappearance before the eyes of death.

He lifts his eyes from the garden, turns towards the room he has just cleaned: everything is clean, but he doesn't feel so.

He feels nothing, only dirt.

With a lump in his throat accelerating him, unable to stay still and hating himself for feeling this way, Levi leaves the room he shares with the other three soldiers. He walks through the base corridors carrying his cleaning supplies in his hands, heading for the bathroom. There, he cleans them, cleans himself and prepares everything. Finally, he makes his way to the office that Erwin occupies.

The door is locked. He knocks, but Erwin doesn't answer; there's no one there. Levi enters without his pulse quivering, leaves the cleaning supplies on the desk and opens the window. He breathes in, inhales, exhales, the same old shit as before and after so many moments that he would like to remove from his brain.

"Levi!" he listens.

He turns around: Hanji Zoë is leaning against the right side of the doorway.

“What the fuck do you want, four-eyes?” Levi asks before turning his back on them to take the broom and start sweeping.

“Erwin told me you were cleaning his office. It looks a lot better since then! He's very tidy and meticulous, you know, but he works so hard that sometimes he even forgets to eat.”

Levi doesn't slow down or answer; he keeps sweeping every corner, and as he piles up the dust to one side he remembers when he started doing it: it was the day after Farlan and Isabel died. Since he had decided to follow Erwin Smith, then he would do it his way: he would keep clean the office where he would have to listen to him and meet him before certain expeditions.

He would keep the place where he had to interact with him clean, up to his standards, in order to fight for humanity.

“What are you doing tonight?” Hanji asks.

Levi stops the broom. Holding it against his chest with both hands, he turns to Hanji. He looks at them sideways.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you know, commander Shadis always gives us the weekend after an expedition free so we can relax a little. Many go home to see their families; we loners stay in the barracks and go out.”

"I see." Levi keeps sweeping as if he had heard nothing.

Since he arrived at the Survey Corps and lose his friends, he always uses those days to clean the room, to wash his clothes, to dry them, to sweep the corridors, to clean the windows with the three-dimensional maneuvering equipment…

Everything he has already done today.

"And, well…, we're going to a bar today! There's a very sweet man, Erwin's ex-partner's dad, who has this bar not far from here, in the middle of the commercial area. Erwin saw him today; since he's fond of us (I think he's the only civilian that does so!) he told us we could go, that he was inviting us. Of course, we won't allow that! We have a salary for something, although I put everything into the research I do. Did you know that I have enough evidence to say that the titans _sleep_ at night? I'd like to see one of them quiet, resting! They must look very…”

"Are you asking me out?"

Hanji, though disappointed by the interruption, nods. They laugh mischievously before answering:

"Don't get your hopes up, you're not my type! Moblit, Mike, Nanaba and I will go. Erwin too! It took a lot to convince him to abandon his papers, but we got him to agree." Hanji takes a step forward; Levi turns his back on them again. "Why don't you come with us?"

Initially, the warm treatment they had towards Isabel was what made Levi tolerate Hanji; anyone who made Isabel feel good deserved his attention. Even though they have very nasty ideas about titans and seem not to bathe very often, he cannot say that he dislikes them. However, even though Hanji treats him like the best of friends, Levi has decided to keep his distance, from them and from everyone else.

Except from the one he's decided to follow.

He's not interested in going out, but there is something that today seems to weigh heavily on his shoulders, which made him do the cleaning of an entire weekend in one goddamn day. He hasn't had any alcohol in a long time, besides, since the last drinks he shared with his friends before that fucking expedition.

Maybe, it's not a bad idea to have some. After all, alcohol is one of the few things that allows him to sleep more than two hours. Going out with them doesn't mean making them his friends, after all.

Besides, Erwin Smith will be there. It can't be that bad to hear him talk about stupid things for a couple of hours, even though he's sure the bastard doesn't drink, or at least that's what he thinks: it's not something that seems to fit with him.

Or…?

"Okay," he says. He regrets it when he hears Hanji scream with enthusiasm. "But _you_ don't get your hopes up. It doesn't mean I like you."

"But it's a step forward, Levi." Hanji shows up in front of him. "Getting out a little is always a step forward, especially considering our current situation. We don't have to forget that we're still people… Anyway! See you at the stables at ten."

One smile, warm, kind, and Hanji leaves. Alone, Levi continues to sweep, but he stops when he crashes the desk, which causes some papers to fall apart. He arranges them, leaving them neater than they were, and Erwin's handwriting, so neat, so clear and clean, only manages to clutter up his thoughts. As he tries to get back to his work, he squeezes the broom handle with both hands, so much so that he almost breaks the wood.

Today he doesn't feel well; no day after an expedition he feels well, less when he can’t avoid a death with all his strength. Perhaps, going out can clear him up a little, remove all the restlessness he feels dancing under his skin.

Even if Erwin is there. Precisely because Erwin will be there.

What a contradiction.

.

.

.

"He accepted!" Hanji says.

They enter their laboratory, which is improvised in a cell with broken bars in the basement. The budget is not yet adequate to give Hanji the place they deserve, a decent laboratory, but Erwin promises himself that that will soon change too.

It has to, if they want to win this war.

"Really?!” Moblit asks. He’s Hanji's new assistant, and he speaks with his usual alarmed tone, always nervous in the presence of the brightest mind in the Survey Corps. Erwin can't hold a smile: he can tell the affection is starting to turn into something else. “I didn't expect him to accept... I-I can't imagine him drinking beer!”

"Me neither! It'll be fun!" Hanji replies as they approach their chair.

Erwin waits for them on the other side of the desk while Moblit orders books in a corner. Not even the light helps here, but yes, everything will change, they just have to wait a little longer.

Hanji's brain will be as crucial to humanity as Levi's strength is.

"He was cleaning your office, by the way…" Hanji sits down in front of Erwin and runs a pile of books to look at him, the first two fall to the floor, and Moblit hurries to pick them up and put them in order with his reckless gestures. "Again."

After securing the latter, Hanji gets serious, something not so usual for them, at least not in this sort of conversation.

"I think cleaning it's good for him," Erwin says, also serious. "It's good to have something to distract you here, especially after such a demanding expedition."

"I know, Erwin, but don't you think it's too much?"

Erwin looks at Moblit: he's turning his back on them by tidying up the vast library. He doesn't know him well enough, but when he notices how Hanji smiles at him, he understands what they're saying to him without words.

_You can trust him, I promise you._

"Maybe it's a lot, but it has been stressful days for everyone," Erwin concludes.

"I don't think so, it has to do with something else. I think Levi has some sort of compulsion to be clean, something he does to avoid other things, although I can't tell if it's just perfectionism or anxiety."

Erwin looks at his own hands, the two of them crossed over the desk. He holds his left hand with his right as he frowns. Soon, he relaxes.

"Who doesn't have a compulsion here?" he answers.

Hanji nods, laughing.

"Good point! I mean, Mike smells people and then he smiles, I do experiments, Moblit makes sure I don't die while I'm doing them, you forget to eat because you're working on your tactics… Levi's doesn't sound that weird, I know! But I'm glad you suggested me to invite him today: I mentioned the cleaning thing because I have the impression that he's sadder than he admits. He lost his best friends in a horrible way! It's always hard, it happened to all of us, and we all got through those first big losses as best we could, we let them go the best we could…" Hanji looks down; they're still smiling. Moblit looks at them slyly and smiles too, surely touched by what he hears. "But Levi is very closed, he doesn't talk to anyone. I worry that he's lonely or needs help and no one is offering it to him."

Erwin opens his mouth when he hears Hanji's words: they're right. Dumbfounded, he feels the blood circulating in his body turning into guilt, running through his veins, filling every corner of his existence with his unwavering strength, with that kind of relentless spirit that never lets Erwin breathe after its appearance.

He suggested to Hanji to invite Levi because he wanted to observe him more closely, to learn to tame him as guilt always tames him. To do so, the first thing he needs is to get to know him, to know more about him, to establish a stronger bond of comrades, one that will enable the rest.

One that allows him to read Levi enough.

And it turns out that no, there is nothing to tame, to understand, to control, to read.

There is something, in Levi, that is perhaps wrong and nothing more.

Hanji is right, yes: maybe Levi feels lonely, or he feels a sadness that, because how stoic he shows, he will never dare to recognize, much less to show. Erwin knows what happens when someone locks up all the feelings in the darkest corner of the heart. It's a price too high to pay.

Considering Levi's youth, he probably doesn't have enough experience handling that kind of demons.

Those wings don't deserve to carry something that heavy, not if he can do something about it.

It will be a matter of gaining his trust, he promises, all in order to save Levi from that image that has haunted Erwin all day, that of Shadis defeated.

His own image, that of Erwin himself, full of guilt forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, for those kudos, for your comments! ❤
> 
> I know I'm very new here; that's why I appreciate twice each message I receive. They fill my heart, THANK YOU.
> 
> About Levi and "his youth", yes, Levi is not as young as this story seems to indicate, not in canon, but Erwin's wrong perception has to do with a future event that I hope to share soon. 
> 
> I'm on vacation until mid-January, so I'll take the opportunity to update twice a week from today. :')
> 
> I hope you like it and thanks a lot for reading! ❤❤❤


	3. III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for my English, please! ♥

**III**

When they enter Sam's father's bar, he receives them as if he were receiving his son, who died many years ago, precisely in the first expedition outside the walls in which both he and Erwin participated.

Seeing the joy and excitement of his old friend's father, Erwin needs to remember him for a moment, Sam, his hysterical laughter, his bravado, his fear of spiders, how he teased Nile about his inability to write love letters. They had joined the Survey Corps together; in their promotion, he got the tenth place, while Erwin got the first and Nile the ninth. Erwin saw him die in the foreground; Sam, to him, wasn't as dear as Isabel Magnolia and Farlan Church seemed to Levi, but he was a good friend.

He remembers what Hanji said to him this afternoon: Every member/survivor of the Survey Corps have had their first big loss. Everyone is carrying on as best they can, grieving as they can.

Erwin did it his way, promising himself that Sam's death wouldn't be in vain.

"It's good to see you, Erwin. I knew your squad had no casualties! It's getting to be a habit, I'm happy for you," Sam's father says as he pats Erwin on the shoulder in a fatherly gesture.

How could he not hate him for the death of his son? Erwin has asked himself the same question a hundred times; he always finds the same answer in the warm gaze of this face worn out by years, by absences: he knows that his son died for a good cause, he knows that he fought for humanity, for freedom, and that his death finds meaning in the lives of those who survive.

That is why he's fond of them, perhaps.

They are the ones who keep Sam's soul alive. 

"Oh! Is he _that_ soldier…?" the old man asks.

Behind everyone, Levi has his hands in his pockets as he looks sideways at the establishment. He's wearing a white shirt, a black jacket, dark blue pants and his distinctive white cravat. When he saw him arrive at the meeting point, Erwin couldn’t help but be surprised: he was very formal, very elegant, actually, despite being, in reality, a soldier full of well-managed violence on the other side of the walls.

There's something contradictory about Levi, something that always seems disconnected. Erwin feels an intrigue that, unconsciously, begins to transform into a fixation.

He needs something from Levi, something to help him solve the mystery, to read him properly, but he doesn't know what it is.

"That's him," Erwin replies, turning to Levi for a moment.

"Humanity's Strongest!" the man says as he approaches Levi, holding his hands warmly. "The kids in the neighborhood keep talking about you, playing at being you. Thank you for inspiring people so much, for giving them so much hope!"

Levi looks into his eyes fixedly and he doesn't blink at all; Erwin, seeing him stare at someone else for the first time, discovers that, from another angle, Levi's eyes seem to talk a little more.

He looks moved.

For one significant second, he shows the deepest emotion Erwin has ever seen.

The stoic face returns a second later, when the eyes freeze in the blink of an eye; Levi nods, serious, and the man lets go.

"Hope you have a good night!" he says. "Follow me, please."

The bar is small, dark, but very quiet. Almost all the tables are taken; some people wander around the counter, men, women, no one under 20.

Some women look sideways at Erwin, smile at him from the counter; he doesn't pay attention.

He never does.

He only manages to look at Levi, who is in front of him, next to Hanji, though conveniently separated from them and the others.

The eyes have melted for the first time, but not for long enough; Levi, now, intrigues him a thousand times more.

How that coldness can hide that emotion?

They occupy a table in the corner that is farthest from the door. Erwin sits on the right side of the table, with his back to the door, with Mike and Nanaba, respectively, at his side. In front of him sits Levi, with the wall behind him, just after letting Moblit and Hanji take their places.

Levi crosses his legs, arms, and bends his head; his movements are as elegant as when he's using his three-dimensional maneuvering equipment. There is something about that elegance that moves Erwin, that captures him and doesn't let him go.

That it intrigues him almost as much as the eyes do.

Mike invites the first round of beers and proposes a toast to Erwin and his future promotion. When he hears the news that the rest already knew, Levi allows himself to look at him for a moment. Erwin smiles at him calmly, relaxed, with the ease that being out of the barracks allows. Then, without anything else being said about it, they begin a conversation about expeditions, about food they haven't tasted in a long time, about some book read recently, about smells, about titans of particularly funny gestures. After stopping Hanji's passionate monologues about this or that titan on three separate occasions, everyone is laughing.

Everyone except Levi.

From time to time, while they drink and talk, Erwin allows himself to look at him: Levi seems to be very focused on the beer, which he drinks in long gulps. It can be said that he intimidates the others, because nobody asks him anything, although not Hanji, who makes a comment to him depending on the topic at hand, in a friendly, conciliatory tone.

He's not quite sure how old Levi is, maybe 20 or 21, not more, but he and Mike are past 30; the rest are around 25. Almost everyone has been giving their heart to the cause since they were teenagers, they don't have many topics of conversation beyond the titans, since they are the protagonists of their lives, but laughing is easy, pretending that titans don't exist or are a product of Hanji's wild imagination is easy. For Erwin it's easy, although he doesn't have much to say.

They are like teenagers leading an adult life: they have postponed a lot, they will keep postponing, but in moments like this, after so much stress, it feels good to let all the inexperience mixed with the excess of experience out.

Outside the walls, they are the veterans who have survived too many expeditions; here, they allow themselves to be the teenagers who they had to sleep in order to prevail out there.

"The two women at the counter didn't take their eyes off you, Erwin," Nanaba says as she orders herself one more beer. "If they knew you were going to be the next commander, they'd be all over you by now!"

With genuine modesty, certainly selfless, Erwin takes a shot at his second beer. Mike gives him a pat on the shoulder.

"As if he would accept. You don't know Erwin! He's so boring, I mean… if Levi is the most powerful guy in the world, then Erwin is the most boring one!"

More laughs.

"Well, Mike, if that's how you judge your future commander, then I guess you _do_ have fun!" Hanji answers.

Mike smiles just like he smells people, with that kind of mischievousness that is so typical of him at those situations.

"Oh! _That_ smile!" Hanji interlace their fingers and show their teeth in an almost sadistic gesture. "How long has it been since…?"

Mike blushes. In a man of his height, age and presence, such shame is a funny thing, although Erwin says to himself that he's probably thinking about it out of pure prejudice.

"A while ago…" he says quietly, just before he drinks.

He looks at Nanaba for a second, who also blushes, although coughing seems to put her back together.

"And you, Nanaba?"

She laughs, as if anticipating Hanji's question.

"A while ago, too…" Nanaba laughs, Mike follows her, Moblit blushes, Hanji screams, Erwin smiles.

Levi raises his hand with his beer glass barely empty. He orders one more beer with his eyes more unreadable than ever.

From Erwin's perspective, it's as if the subject makes him uncomfortable.

He remembers him cleaning; he has the same gesture as when he sweeps his office while Erwin studies tactics on his desk, those seconds when he needs to spy on him, when he asks himself what Levi thinks, what Levi feels. The beer replaces the broom; there is something in Levi that is begging to leave the conversation.

Erwin pretends to change the subject; he doesn't make it right on time:

"And you, Hanji?! Has Commander Shadis pay attention to you?" Nanaba exclaims.

Completely flushed, Hanji hits the table with a fist.

"I told you it was something from adolescence, I was confused!"

"Oh, come on… You love him! The other day, while giving orders before leaving, you kept looking at him. You should get into his room; I don't think he'll reject you! You go, you tell him something like _let's fuck hard, commander_ , and that's it!"

Erwin tries to distract himself by observing Moblit's gesture of romantic desolation, who looks at his beer like a child, but no.

Levi finishes his third beer and, without anyone seeming to pay attention, orders his fourth. Despite the amount of alcohol, his gestures remain elegant; the talk makes him uncomfortable and the beer does nothing to him.

Levi only drinks while he looks aside, like an outsider, despite being with the people who relate to him the most in the world, those who risk their lives for the same cause for which he risks his own.

When Erwin pays attention to the conversation again, Moblit is answering:

"N-No, I really don't…" he says shyly, "I-It has been centuries…"

"Centuries? From a previous life?" Mike asks Moblit, who is no longer blushing because it's not physically possible.

Embarrassed, Moblit sinks his face into the table, his arms resting on the surface.

"And what about you, future commander of the Survey Corps?" Nanaba asks, smiling at him.

Erwin looks at Levi: he's staring at him. A chill runs down his spine; it’s like a sharp ice, cutting him; Levi captures his pupils with astonishing ease. Erwin collects himself a second later, when Levi’s eyes leave him.

"I don't have time," Erwin replies without hesitation. He doesn't pretend, because he doesn't lie: he has no time for human relations, his only relationships are with his comrades; there is no room for anyone else, and with none of them he has any affinity beyond friendship, comradeship. However, it gives him some nostalgia to think about it.

He would like to have someone by his side, someone special.

"How responsible," Hanji says; there is some irony in their voice, though he can tell they're joking, that they don't mean it.

"I think you're the type to fall in love, Erwin," Nanaba says. In her smile, curiosity no longer triumphs, but some kind of tenderness.

It's that strange understanding that everyone in the Survey Corps has: every person who asks for that area of the Military knows that they have to leave too much behind.

Sometimes even their humanity.

Love, friendship, intimacy, commitment; the simplicity of an easy, typical dream, that of forming a family. None of that can exist for them. That's why he left Marie behind so many years ago, when she confessed to him that she was ready to wait for him to return, to take care of the family that they formed while he was fighting for humanity. Marie wanted to wait for him, she really did.

The idea couldn't have displeased him more.

He couldn't form a family, with her or with anyone else; he had no right. He still doesn't have it. His dreams are incompatible with love, with the fruits that should only come from love.

He couldn't leave children without a father; he didn't want to. Nor did he want to leave his partner alone, trapped behind walls that he, despite having fought so hard, wouldn't have been able to tear down.

He would never want that.

"Erwin is a romantic, but he'll never tell you," Mike says.

Erwin laughs; how much he knows him.

"I see…" Nanaba just stares at him.

"It's very noble, I think," Moblit says, who also stares at him, though not without a certain shyness. "Sometimes I think I'd like to have someone, to know that someone is waiting for me, to know that I'm fighting for someone special, but I chose this path for a reason…"

Everyone, except Levi, smile in that way so common among soldiers: with sadness, with nostalgia, with some kind of longing that will never lead them to anything.

Precisely: they chose this path for a reason. Love, sex; everything is reduced to nothing when you choose the path of those who fight for something as difficult as freedom.

Erwin nods. Apparently, the untidy talk about sex stops after that last thought. He continues to drink, like the others, and thinks about each one of them: Moblit has feelings for Hanji, it's obvious, but he knows that he will never be able to leave the field of the merely platonic. Nanaba and Mike are having fun, on the other hand; they have something healthy that doesn't distract them from their obligations, an accompaniment in adversity that relaxes them in bad moments and of which they rarely speak aloud. They know that, out there before the titans, they cannot let their feelings influence; that is why they don't allow themselves to go beyond their bond, to make it too important. As for Hanji, well…

"Do you really like that old man, four-eyes? You have some fucking bad taste," Levi says between drinks, just before he orders one more beer.

After a tense silence, Nanaba is the first to laugh. Mike follows her, Erwin himself does so.

"O-hey!" exclaims Hanji, indignant. "It's just that…! I… Damn!" Undone by laughter, they cover their face with one hand.

"Hanji, it's okay to feel something for someone, it doesn't mean you dream of being with that person. I mean…" Moblit speaks from his own experience, of course, and from the noblest feeling that can exist: that love that will never find expression, but that shines before the joy of the other person no matter that it will never be reciprocated. "We are still human! Some of us find it hard to stop feeling things for others, even more so when we meet someone who dazzles us for some reason… Commander Shadis has worked very hard! He's… a good man."

"It's true, Moblit: we're still human." Hanji smiles: maybe, it's true that they like the commander, even if it doesn't seem to be very important to them. Perhaps, the attraction is small, almost insignificant. Perhaps, it’s not idealized, romantic, but more physical.

The point is the same, for everyone: the incompatibility with the chosen path.

"But seriously, Levi is right: he’s Shadis! Shadis!" Nanaba dishevels Hanji with her right hand, affectionate. "With that disturbed look he looks more like a titan than a person."

Mike holds back the laughter, but soon he can't do it anymore. He laughs, everyone laughs, even Hanji, who looks at Levi with immense curiosity and a slight desire for revenge.

"What about you, Levi? What kind of women do you like? Since you criticize my taste, tell us something about yours."

Erwin can't stop the urge to look at Levi: he's looking at him, again, although, as every time their eyes meet, Levi leaves him a second later.

"I'm not interested," he replies.

Hanji, with an elbow on the table and a cheek in one hand, frowns.

"Not interested in what?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing? Women? Sex? Love?"

Levi finishes another beer. The sound of his beer glass hitting the table produces a deathly silence.

"Nothing."

But Levi looks at him, at Erwin, and he seems frustrated, tense, uncomfortable, like he doesn't want to be there.

As if the one he's looking at is the source of his discomfort.

"It's too late now," Levi says, "have fun."

He gets up. Hanji tries to protest, to urge him to stay, but Moblit and Nanaba stop them.

"Maybe he's tired, let him go," Nanaba whispers. "Or maybe he's uncomfortable; let's leave him alone."

Everyone sees him pay his drinks at the counter: Sam's father objects, insists, but Levi leaves him extra money up front.

"Take it, old man. If you don't want it as a payment, then use it to secure lunch for some hungry kid who needs it."

Erwin's heart skips a beat when he hears that. Levi didn't say it out loud, as if for everyone to listen; it was the closeness to the table that allowed them to hear. In his voice, he can hear the brutal but elegant honesty that Levi has towards everything around him, especially his mission.

"I'm sorry to have inconvenienced him," Hanji whispers when Levi disappears.

"No, Hanji: it's okay," Nanaba says as she holds their hand, squeezing it. "Let's not forget that Levi came from the Underground. Perhaps he has gone through things that shaped him in this way, that took away all his interest in relationships. He must be very distrustful."

"He is, I can tell he is," Mike adds.

"He lost his friends, I'm worried that he feels lonely… That Isabel was so sweet, damn!" Hanji screams as they look at the door. "But, well, we're adults, I can't force him either, at least he came with us tonight."

"It's true," Moblit replies. "You're very kind, Hanji…"

"What's wrong with you, Erwin? You're very quiet."

Mike's question brings Erwin back: without realizing it, he's never stopped looking at the door out of the corner of his eye, almost longing for it to open, for Levi to come back to the table.

Securing food for some hungry kid…

"I'm leaving too, I have a lot to do tomorrow," he says. "Sorry, I'm a little distracted tonight. Please, have a good time and enjoy this moment."

Although Hanji seemed disappointed about his decision to leave, they nod. Everyone smiles at him as he says goodbye.

Erwin walks to the counter and pays for his beer. When Sam's father tries to resist, as he did with Levi, Erwin puts the money on his hand.

"Please, since you're feeding some kid tomorrow, make it two, or three, or as many as you can afford with this money. Believing in what we do you're already doing too much for us."

Sam's dad takes the money.

"I promise to feed as many poor children as I can, Erwin. Thank you for keeping Sam alive inside you…"

Erwin, too moved, nods, and goes slowly, and runs to his horse when he closes the door behind him.

He goes down the street, until Levi, on his black horse, appears in the middle of the darkness: his solitary walk is illuminated by the moon and nothing else.

"Levi!" Erwin calls him.

He turns his head when he stops. Erwin catches him galloping a little faster than he's used to in town.

"Let me guess: you don't even have time to talk about stupid things and that's why you're leaving early," Levi tells him as he greets him.

Erwin nods. In the smile he gestures there is a certain complicity.

It's always good for Erwin to break out of the routine a little. Not because he wants to, because their fight will always be more important to him, but to remember what Hanji and Moblit have described so well today: he's still a human.

He hasn't done yet what Shadis has done, giving up his complete humanity to take on the most important job in the Survey Corps, to be in charge of all the soldiers' lives.

Sending them to die for a greater cause in exchange for losing the bearing that every commander must have, those upright shoulders in the face of the unknown, ready to face anything.

Disturbed by remembering Shadis' reflection in the window, Erwin just follows the flow of the conversation; he doesn't have to think about it now, he doesn't have to get ahead of himself.

They have Levi now, Levi representing the revolution.

"Something like that," he replies. "Do I accompany you?"

"I can't say no to you unless I take a shortcut, but this way is the most direct…"

"There's no choice, then."

"That’s what it seems, blondie."

Erwin hears Levi laugh perhaps for the first time since he has met him: His laugh is brief, discreet, but it's a laugh.

It's a step forward.

They mustn't lose their humanity, it's true, but they can't deny what they are either, or so Erwin thinks as he identifies with the Levi at the table, that interested in nothing.

Rather than lovers, fathers, sons, they are soldiers. That's the path they chose, after all.

That's the only path they're allowed to take.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! This fic is going slooooowly, I know, but some things are going to happen soon!
> 
> About Marie, just yesterday I saw a lot of people talking about her on Twitter. My opinion is that she wasn't that important to Erwin, that she was a girl he liked in his teens and not much else, but I put a "little something" between them more interested in exploring Erwin's bisexuality. I'm very passionate about that topic and I wanted to talk about it a little bit here.
> 
> I like the idea of thinking of all these characters, I mean the veterans, as awkward and inexperienced people when it comes to relationships; it's an interesting contrast to those who they are when they fight for humanity.
> 
> I hope you like it!
> 
> Thanks a lot for the nice comments you left me and for the support and good vibes, also for the kudos and bookmarks!
> 
> I'll update on Thursday. ♥
> 
> Happy New Year! May our own fight, the one that moves our hearts, finds meaning in every result we obtain.
> 
> ♥♥♥


	4. IV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for my English, please! I will reread tomorrow and I will keep learning! ♥

**IV**

They gallop calmly through the dark streets that are within wall Rose towards the headquarters, an old renovated castle, optimal for the activities of the Survey Corps. Since the headquarters is a little far from that small commercial area located halfway between Trost and Ehrmich, it takes them half an hour to return. Two thirds of the way, and neither one nor the other speaks of anything; all they hear, under the moonlight, are the horseshoes of their respective horses crashing almost harmoniously on the ground.

Erwin smiles, always looking ahead: he had never thought how much he liked that sound, the sound of his horse's steps. Together with Levi's, it's as if they form a melody capable of calming even the most convulsed heart.

"Thinking about tactics?" Levi asks.

Erwin watches him.

"What?"

Never changing the gesture, as indifferent as ever, Levi answers without hesitate:

"You smile like an idiot. You must smile like that when you think of strange tactics."

Erwin allows himself to laugh.

"I was thinking about what the galloping of the horses transmits to me," he confesses with an almost adolescent shyness, "how the slowness of their steps makes me feel calm."

Because they only go slowly when they come back alive, when they enter the walls again.

"Mike wasn't lying when he said you were a romantic," Levi says.

Erwin laughs again.

"I guess I am."

He looks at Levi out of the corner of his eye: he looks calm, though he never leaves behind that indifference, that natural detachment from everyone. Erwin thinks, looking at him, how talented he is, what he's capable of doing, how important is his talent to the Survey Corps.

Levi is one of his priorities. Strengthening the bond is necessary.

But how?

But why?

"What about you?" Erwin asks. He's not the most skilful person to begin a conversation, or not; he _is_ a skilful person to begin a conversation, he is so when he performs some of his tricks in the Capital, when he negotiates, when he investigates, when he explains tactics, when he talks with his squad. But this is Levi, Levi under the moonlight looking so mysterious, so uncrossable, like a block of ice impossible to break.

It's Levi, whose own light, as white and as mysterious as that of the moon, seems to make him as huge as a titan.

Or even more than that.

It's Levi looking as majestic as when he fights, Levi so young, so full of life and future, exalting everything around him just by being there.

Erwin longs for nothing more than to help him, to be a kind of mentor to someone who, despite his young age, has already lived too long.

"What?" Levi asks without turning to him.

Erwin studies the surroundings: If he's not mistaken, it won't take much more than ten minutes to get to the barracks. Perhaps enough time for a little conversation.

"I don't have time for love or interpersonal relationships, but I'm quite romantic at heart," he says, giving some information in exchange for an answer. "What about you?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing?"

"Same thing I said at the table: nothing."

"I mean, you've never been in love."

"That kind of shit doesn't exist in the Underground."

Levi's statement surprises him on the one hand, but on the other it makes him sensitive, because the answer was too obvious: it's true, Levi grew up in the Underground.

He grew up in a place where there is no right to anything.

Where he lived even faster than Erwin suspects.

"I understand…" he whispers.

He thinks about asking him something else, but all it seems inappropriate. Every question he thinks finds no context in what he imagines is the ecosystem of Levi's youth. There, everything is dark.

There is not much to teach someone like him.

"There's only violence there," Levi says, to Erwin's surprise, who didn't expect another word from him. "I mean, there's the dirt, the injustice, but mostly there's the violence, the shit that craps the other shit."

"Well," Erwin replies without thinking too much, without calculating his words, something he can't afford pretty often, not in the tireless pursuit of his goals, "I guess it's the same here: The Survey Corps needs violence to survive."

"And the titans are the mother of all shits."

"They are. That's why there's not much room for things like love or relationships here."

"Mike and Nanaba seem to disagree with you."

Erwin is surprised: he swore Levi hadn't paid much attention to the conversation, not judging by the discomfort he was showing at the table.

"They're not, but I have no way of blaming them: they're adults, both of them, and they're responsible. They never allow their relationship to hurt them outside the walls; I respect their commitment. We all need something to hold on to."

"And what are you hold on to, you old romantic?"

Erwin's eyes widen as his eyebrows rise. He turns to Levi, and notices how he stares at him.

"Well…" Erwin slows down his voice: he has no idea what he's holding on to, not exactly. Soon, he discovers that he has never thought about this. "If I think about it, I hold on to work: it's what keeps me in balance. I also hold on to moments like the one at the bar, moments when I can relax, take a break from the routine." He soon feels satisfied: yes, that's the answer, the one Hanji gave him this afternoon in their improvised laboratory. "I mean, like you and cleaning…"

He slides it so naturally that Erwin doesn't realize what he's saying until he says it, until he hears his own voice to say it.

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Well, you're always cleaning up the barracks, and the dining room, and my office; I thought it was some kind of hobby, to relax."

"I wish it was just that, but why would I explain something you'll never understand?"

Erwin is paralyzed by Levi's response. He thinks about what to answer, but the barracks before his eyes prevents him from doing so: end of the journey, end of the conversation.

In silence, they leave the horses in the stables and walk into the building. They pay attention to each other again at the foot of the main stairs on the first floor: Levi's room is a few steps away from there; Erwin's on the second floor. Few soldiers stayed; most of them, including the commander, have retired for the weekend. It's as if they were alone, looking at each other under the candles of dim light that illuminate the stairs in golden tones.

He smiles at Levi, who barely pays any attention to him. Taking the gesture as what it seems to be, a bomb of indifference, Erwin decides to go up the stairs.

"I don't hold on to cleanliness, it's not a hobby," Levi says as Erwin climbs three steps, "I clean because I _hate_ dirt."

Erwin looks at him from the third step: at the bottom of the stairs, Levi has his arms crossed and his eyes fixed on nothing, far away from him.

Unreachable, again.

"Is it… some kind of compulsion?" he asks, trying to sound friendly, warm, not gossipy.

Levi clicks his tongue.

"That would be the easy way to explain it. But what the fuck do you care anyway?"

Levi's answer twists his heart in a way that Erwin doesn't remember feeling in years. Why does such a feeling run through him like lightning, like a sword? He says to himself the same as before, that Levi is his priority, that Levi is important to the future of the Survey Corps, that his answer hurts him because he longs to get along with the one in whom all of humanity begins to place all hope, even the children on the streets, finally finding a hero among the soldiers who fight for them, for everyone.

He wants to help him, to teach him that keeping so much pain under so many keys is useless.

"We'll spend a lot of time together, maybe years, the rest of our lives as long as we survive. I think it's important to have a good relationship," he answers, not without some coldness.

"I'm your weapon, not your friend. Use me and stop being sentimental; you make me uncomfortable."

Without further ado, Levi leaves. Erwin remains on the third step, still, unable to react to the last words he has heard.

He turns, and Shadis' reflection on the glass torments him, and the fallen shoulders torment him, and the insults of the people torment him.

If he wants to be a good commander, if he wants to change the order of things by finding the truth that lies behind the walls, he needs to put aside his own humanity; a very, very simple equation.

In theory.

He has to learn to send the soldiers to an almost certain death, in fact, because no tactic, not even the best one he can design, will save them.

Nothing will, never. Nothing, if they don't get the truth.

He has to see the soldiers as Levi asks to be seen, as weapons.

But he can't, he finds out.

He can’t, and that’s his problem.

He looks at his right hand, which trembles with anguish, that ghostly being that knows how to squeeze his neck so well.

_"Professor, why…?"_

He clenches his fist and teeth. He clenches his eyelids, making it so hard that he feels like he's getting dizzy from doing it. The anguish wraps its hands around his neck, and it clenches and clenches as hard as he clenches himself.

He can’t surrender, he can’t let himself be consumed by this guilt that suffocates him by provoking such unbearable anguish, that it turns into a being that is a little stronger every day.

He can’t cause more meaningless deaths. He can’t, not after the one he has already caused.

They have lost too many soldiers, now, before, a hundred years losing soldiers in exchange for a small amount of information that has been of no use to them.

Not to see the humanity behind the number, the death count, would be like seeing soldiers as weapons, not as people.

To see them as weapons would be to make the same mistake as the twelve commanders this Corps has had, Shadis included; it would be to take away all their meaning by seeing the number, not the humanity hidden behind it.

And no, he won't do it.

He will revolutionize this organization.

He turns, he nods, he pushes anguish away, he makes up his mind.

He won't do it.

.

.

.

Apparently, his roommates left, because they're not there For the first time, he'll be spending the night alone in this huge barracks.

He curls up in his chair, as always, ready to sleep, but all the memories that twist and turn inside his head stop at once, become visible, show images too clear to evade.

_"Don't you like girls? Really?"_

_"What the fuck does that matter?"_

_"A lot of people care, apparently it's better to like girls than not like them, weird thoughts of the pigs up here! But don't worry, I would never judge you for that, Levi. I'm your friend, aren't I? We've been through a lot; I couldn't judge you. On the contrary! Maybe we could try. What do you say?"_

_"Leave, now."_

_"Oh, come on. It can't be that bad to kiss me, can it? We have to try everything before we die."_

Fucking Farlan Church.

He has never cared about sex nor romantic love, that shit that only makes people weak. He's got no way of caring about things like that, not with his background, not with his own story. Kenny had explained it to him over and over and over again: _violence is the only thing that matters in a shitty world like this one_.

He needs nothing more than violence, to manage it properly out there, to use it to fight the titans. Here, within the walls, he needs nothing more than to stay strong, to feed well, to put aside thoughts that may disturb him, that may ruin what he’s fighting for.

To maintain peace within his mind, after losing Farlan and Isabel, he needs nothing more than to remain detached from people. He can no longer feel affection for anyone, he can no longer become attached to anyone, he can no longer make friends the way they were.

He has to be alone.

Although admitting it out loud is impossible for someone like him, born from violence and shaped by violence, he's not so stupid or so childish as not to admit it to himself: he misses Farlan and Isabel, he misses them every damn second that passes, every damn morning and every damn night. He can never stop thinking about them, experiencing something new and wondering what they would have felt, remembering them by perceiving how much space absences take up around him.

Like today, like that talk about sex: impossible not to think about Farlan that night after two wines, some insults, a lot of misunderstanding and some pleasure. Impossible not to think of all he had discovered about himself thanks to that one night of shared bed. Impossible, too, not to remember so many stupid talks with the two of them, all the jokes, all the teasing.

He misses that: being transparent. To be able to be himself without having to explain a thing, naturally.

To be understood with simplicity, in a safe, clean, comfortable, pleasant space. A space of his own, one that belongs only to him, only to those who are special in his heart.

A space that reminds him of that old room with faded but clean curtains; the place that lies immaculate in his memories, the one where violence will never exist.

He takes a deep breath; he needs to calm down. However, something disturbs him.

The door.

Someone knocks on the door once, twice, three times. Irritated, he gets up and opens it.

"I can't sleep," Erwin tells him, a little more nervous and uninhibited than he remembers seeing him before. "Actually, I don't sleep much. I heard the same happens to you… Is that true?"

"What do you want?" Levi answers without giving away any emotion, without showing that he has been thinking about everything he has been thinking about.

Erwin shows him his right hand: he has a box of black tea of a very exclusive brand that, as he knows, is only available in wall Sheena.

"I also heard that you like tea…"

Levi frowns.

"Do you really work hard or do you have a hobby of being an old gossipy who hears rumours at the corner of the street?"

Erwin laughs, and Levi doesn't know why, or how, or what the reason is, but the laugh makes him very uncomfortable.

It's like it makes him sad.

"It's inevitable to hear what's whispered in the corridors, I'm sorry." Erwin points to the mark on the tea, sure Levi will recognize it, and yes, he does. "Would you like to share one with me?"

Levi looks into Erwin's eyes - the blue that colours them is exactly the same as the sky behind the wall, the purest bloody blue that exists. He looks at it for more seconds than he should, he does it without realizing it, without calculating it, driven by that kind of discomfort that comes from being saddened, from all the images he has just seen in the darkness.

"I already told you: I'm a weapon, not your friend. Did you want my strength in the service of humanity? You have it, Erwin Smith: you have my strength and I'll follow you until one of us dies, but don't invade me; leave me alone."

Then, Erwin's eyes, full of neatness, of kindness, coloured so beautifully by the same blue that colours the sky, shine more, they become water, the water of a sunlit river; one second, and they fade away. The eyebrows fall, the pupils too, and their gesture becomes almost childish.

"You're not a weapon," he says. "You're not a weapon, Levi; you're a person. I'm very honoured by what you just said, really, because I deeply admire your talent, because I want to deserve someone like you to follow me when Shadis makes me commander, but I don't want you to give up your humanity in return, not like this."

Excuses. Levi doesn't even flinch when he hears him.

"Isn't that what we're doing here?" he asks Erwin with brusqueness marking his words, which extends down this empty corridor of this base silenced by the absences. "You said it: violence is necessary in a place like this, to fight for a cause like this. If you are going to be a commander you should know how to separate the feelings that make you human from your mission; it's your duty, it's what will give security to others. That's the shit here, I don't think I need to explain it to you; you know that. You're not blind, blondie. You see beyond that."

.

.

.

Yeah. Levi is right. Being a commander is about knowing how to separate his humanity from his mission.

But the feelings attached to his goal come from there, precisely. From the human that he is, from the human that he no longer has the right to be.

The mistake that every commander has made, he discovers, isn’t to have separated the human from the commander. It’s to have sent so many soldiers to their deaths without being able to maintain the coldness, the imperturbable gesture, the raised shoulders in spite of the sacrifices.

The mistake isn’t to separate, but not to do so.

But he can't, he repeats himself. No, he can't. He can’t bury the human.

He can’t tolerate someone like Levi doing the same in order to help him to find the truth.

.

.

.

Erwin's hands fall on either side of his body. Levi notices how he squeezes the tea box, how he seems to be holding on to it like it's the only thing he has in his life.

The image, against all his will, seems to make Levi even sadder.

"Seeing beyond isn't always easy; you're not blind, but you tire faster than the rest," Erwin tells him with the childlike gesture in his eyes, with drooping eyelids and a very pure, very sweet smile on his lips. "To separate things, when it comes to lives that are in your charge, that belong to the soldiers who follow you, carries an energy that I don't always have within me. Sometimes, to get up stronger, I need to fall down."

Certainly intrigued, Levi crosses his arms and rests the side of his body on the doorway. The only light that shines on them comes from the corridor. It's weak, but it allows them to see enough.

It seems to illuminate Erwin's eyes and nothing else.

"What do you mean by _to_ _fall down_?" he asks.

Erwin looks at the tea.

"To allow me to feel vulnerable even for a moment." Erwin looks at him, again; Levi sees the same Erwin as before, the one surrounded by the steam that means that the titans are dead, five sources of steam contrasting with the sun's rays peeping through a grey cloud.

"Is that what you need now?"

With eyes bluer than ever, Erwin nods.

"All right, you old romantic, I'll keep you company while you fall down if that's what you need. I won't lie to you: I've always wanted to drink that tea."

Erwin sighs, and something about him conveys a sweetness that Levi finds too far away.

It's unattainable.

"Okay," Erwin says, and asks Levi to follow him.

Levi walks behind him after closing the door, hands in his pockets, eyes fixed on the fallen shoulders of his future commander.

Can he blame him for a moment of weakness? Can he, when he needs to hum _that_ melody in his moments of greatest despair? When he longs for that room of faded curtains, that place in the world where violence will never exist.

He can't, he finds out.

He can't, and accompanying him doesn't have to mean anything else, something that involves love, friendship, a bond.

He can continue as before, alone, detached, but give him the confidence that, judging by his eyes and the sadness they transmitted to him through that childish gesture, Erwin Smith needs to find in someone, perhaps even unknowingly, unconsciously.

If accompanying him is necessary to fulfil his promise, to follow him to hell if that is the destiny in exchange for the truth that lies outside the walls, well…

He will. He will and he won't regret it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Thank you very much for your beautiful comments and I hope you have a beautiful 2020! 
> 
> About this fic: it will be very attached to canon for about half of the story. After certain events, the canon divergence begins. I hope you don't get too bored with the first half! I will give my best, thank you for encouraging me with your beautiful comments. :')
> 
> They mean a lot to me! 
> 
> About Erwin: I'm interested in exploring his insecurities, imagining what kind of thoughts might have filled his head since the announcement of Shadis' resignation. Knowing Erwin from the canon, I refuse to believe that that moment was easy for him. Erwin may hide a thousand things behind his conviction, but we know how much damage he can do to himself inside of him. I know he may sound a bit more "fragile" than in canon or in ACWNR here, but it's precisely with that in mind that I'm writing this, to explore the guilt in a less experienced Erwin than the one we we saw in SNK, who was already the commander.
> 
> Or something like that (?). 
> 
> That's one of the reasons why I needed to write this fic: the idea of a pre-canon with the information we have today (up to chapter 124 of the manga) was too much for me. Talking about Erwin's guilt and Ackerbond, among other things, obsessed me! I hope I'm not doing it too badly.
> 
> Thanks for reading, thanks a lot. 
> 
> Happy New Year! ♥


	5. V

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry! My English is not the best! This chapter was really difficult to me. I hope to learn more for future updates!
> 
> ~
> 
> Warning! This chapter contains mentions of panic attacks. If you are not comfortable with that subject, please, be careful if you keep reading.
> 
> Thank you. ♥

**V**

The words resound inside his head, again and again; they are echoes that touch his skin with unusual sweetness.

_"Did you want my strength in the service of humanity? You have it, Erwin Smith: you have my strength and I’ll follow you until one of us dies."_

He listens to those words again, and again, repeating themselves in his memories like a melody capable of tearing him away from all fear, from all doubts. The eternal repetition unleashes emotions that Erwin doesn't understand.

Why, beyond the honor of having those invincible wings, what fills him when he hears those words is such happiness that can take away all his worries in a second? As if Levi's voice prevailed over the murmur of the world, over the guilt, over the pain.

It’s about the admiration he feels for a person like Levi, so full of life, of future, of talent; a boy so young and so special who dazzles him with his capacity to fly through the skies with an implacable majesty, attractive and deadly. It’s not being able to understand how he’s capable of so much in so little time, to wonder what will become of him in a year, in two. It’s to know that Levi will never find a limit, that his wings will dazzle him more and more every day, him and everyone. Even mankind. 

That's it.

The best soldier, Humanity's Strongest, it’s on his side, determined to fight alongside him, to pursue the same dream as him.

The same dream…

He sighs to get rid of guilt, and the sound of his breathing echoes in the kitchen. He fills the teapot with water and puts it on a tray, ready to take it to his office on the second floor, where he has agreed to meet him. He arrives: Levi has lit two candles, one on the right side of the desk, one on the left; the light is weak, it has the tones of fire, and it illuminates, seen from the door, the back from which the wings are symbolically raised. 

Erwin thinks of saying something, words like _you're very kind_ , but it's useless, it is now, with Levi.

With him, some words seem to be left over. They always do. 

There are two cups on the table. As he sets the tray and sits down on his chair, Erwin looks at them: they are two equal cups, white, made of good porcelain. They have a red line around the edges, and they glow like new.

When he accepted the tea, Levi had asked for this in return, to use his own set of cups.

"Did you bring them from the Underground?" Erwin asks.

Levi crosses his legs and leaves his hands on his lap. Something about him looks more relaxed than in the bar.

"I bought them with my first salary: since I was going to stay here longer than I wanted, I needed new cups; it makes me sick to use mugs that everybody uses, it's unhygienic. I bought three: one broke recently, it…" Levi clicks his tongue, "it slipped while I was cleaning it."

Three cups, Erwin thinks; three, one for Levi, one for Isabel Magnolia, one for Farlan Church. Possibly, one of these cups hasn't been used in months.

Somehow, using one makes him feel lucky: He's still alive.

Levi still has someone to share it with, if he wants to.

"Thank you for sharing your cup with me," Erwin says, at last, unable to stop.

A smile appears for a moment on Levi's thin lips. There is something delicate in all his gestures, something clean, aesthetic.

Like when he flies with his wings: Majestic.

"How cheesy you are, old man… Your moments of vulnerability are too vulnerable, don't you think?"

Erwin sighs.

"Probably."

Levi takes the teapot and pours the tea into a cup, which he extends to Erwin. He repeats the same movements, which are as elegant as all of Levi seems to be, not knowing how much they are admired by the eyes that watch them.

"And what made you feel vulnerable? I mean, the shit that bothers you. If you don't want to say it, well, I respect that: you'll know what to say or not."

Erwin lays his back on the back of his chair, holding on to the armrests. He holds the cup and drinks at the same time as Levi.

He can't help but wonder:

"Why are you holding the cup like that?"

Levi's eyes freeze before him, they show a relentless coldness. His fingers encircle the edge of the cup from above. 

"Too disrespectful to your good manners?"

"No, I just found it a little uncomfortable."

"Custom: as a child, the only cups we had were huge, and my hands were small. Imagine the rest."

 _We_?

"Did you live with your parents?"

"We're here for you, not me: if you want me to answer, you answer first."

Erwin stares at Levi: his eyes are like the night, a cold and lonely mystery in which it's impossible to see beyond. The light the eyes show isn't enough; wrapped in candles, it's more enigmatic than usual.

There is something in Levi that calls him, that devours him, but he doesn't know what it is.

"Let's see…" Erwin whispers. He takes another sip of tea and leaves the cup on his desk with extreme delicacy, respecting Levi's property and symbolism. The care directed at his piece seems to please Levi, or so it seems to Erwin as he pays attention to his gestures. "I think we all have moments like this here; vulnerability is an inherent part of belonging to the Survey Corps. I guess it's not uncommon; every soldier handles it in their way. The tension has to come out somehow, consciously or unconsciously."

Levi nods.

“The strange thing would be if the tension didn’t come out,” he replies. 

Erwin nods too.

“Exactly. The truth is…“ Erwin realizes that he hasn’t planned what to say, that he doesn’t know how to say what is stuck in his throat, that slight but constant pain, which makes it difficult for him to think, to reason, to plan, to prepare himself to be the commander of the Survey Corps.

He tries to say something; he fails. Levi raises an eyebrow.

“I guess being the next commander, considering how fucked up Shadis is, shouldn't be funny, not if it's even capable of fucking up someone like you.” 

“Someone like me…?” Erwin asks, surprised.

Levi has read him perfectly, something that doesn't happen to him, not usually.

That never happens to him, that can never happen to him.

“You'll get over it, blondie. Everyone does. For example, my roommate, I don't know his name, the one who looks constipated…" Levi says holding the cup in his particular way before his mouth; he has a steady pulse, "that guy cries and pees in his sleep. When he wakes up, he still has a constipated face, but beyond what that means, well, he looks healthier than the rest: he doesn't spend the whole day talking about titans like a brat telling a horror story; he's always making stupid jokes about sex, you know, tits, asses, those things brats say when they are at _that_ age."

Erwin laughs when he hears him.

"You sound like a man of the commander's age when you say things like that."

Levi frowns.

"How old do you think I am?"

Erwin doesn't hesitate for a moment:

"No more than 20. I haven't seen your registration sheet."

When he hears him, it's Levi who laughs, and how strange his laughter is: it seems weird, it's very guttural. He sounds like a titan laughing.

"I'll be 26 soon."

What?

Erwin's eyebrows rise so high when he feels how surprise crushes him that Levi laughs once more. His laughter, if it seemed weird before, now seems scary.

More than a titan, he sounds like a person who doesn't know how to laugh.

"Your eyebrows look ridiculous when you're surprised."

Erwin covers his mouth with the back of his hand with the sole intention of stopping a laugh. What a warm sensation spreads through his chest as he releases it despite trying not to!

How much relaxes him this, to laugh. It's so simple.

It's so complicated.

But…

"Some people called me _Eyebrows_ as a child," he confesses, and he's surprised at himself for doing so.

It's not something that he tells someone very often.

It’s something he can never tell. 

But Levi's age…

"Did you have those old pervert eyebrows since you were a kid? I imagine you weren't very pretty."

Another laugh.

Is he 25…?

"Actually, no, I wasn't…"

He sighs after the laughter. It's complicated, laughing is always complicated, but Levi seems to have a natural talent for that, for making him laugh.

And he’s 25…

"It's just…" Erwin continues, stunned, unable to return to his usual composure, "well, you look a lot younger."

"I'm surprised that, as gossipy as you are, you didn't check my registration sheet."

"I had no reason to, I guess…"

Erwin keeps quiet as he feels a powerful chill running through his spine, one accompanied by an unexpected revelation. 

25, then…

He looks at Levi as he drinks from his cup, holding it in that curious way; looks at the elegance of his hand and his posture, sitting with his legs crossed, eyes closed behind the subtle steam coming off the hot water.

… 25, yes.

That's why.

To this day, he has seen Levi for what he thought he was, a boy with a difficult past, a simple teenager younger than him, who turned 31 a month ago. Now, suddenly, Levi changes before him, grows up, becomes a man who is just five years younger than him, not eleven, twelve, thirteen as he thought.

He chokes on his air, clears his throat, drinks some tea to open his tight throat when he discovers what was evident until today despite his refusal to acknowledge it.

Levi attracts him beyond his strength, beyond his talent, beyond the revolution he could mean.

That's why he's intrigued. 

Because he likes him.

He analyses it by taking advantage of the momentary silence: Levi is not beautiful, at least not in a conventional way. His slim, small frame makes him look more feminine than masculine if he looks at him with prejudice; his features are youthful, his eyes give off an innate aggressiveness that would turn anyone's gaze away.

But there is a strange harmony in the whole picture, one so powerful, so dazzling, that it kills any previous argument: Levi _is_ beautiful, in fact; he's very beautiful. He doesn’t seem so at first sight, he doesn't do so because of the prejudices established by the canons prescribed by society, those that dictate what is beautiful and what is not under dubious justifications, but he's beautiful.

He's the most elegant and wild beauty that his eyes have seen.

A tension that plunges him into unbearable discomfort mess up his breath: Levi likes him, him, the human who Erwin will have to sleep forever to be the commander this corps needs to prevail. 

Levi likes him, yes, he likes him as no one else has done for a long time, and he can’t allow this to happen, not now. 

This is the worst time, and the worst person, and the worst context. 

The worst. 

"Stop looking at me like that."

Erwin steps back in his seat: Levi is tense.

He's furious.

"How?"

Levi stands up. He does it in slow motion, like a stray cat ready to attack.

"Like a pig who wants to fuck the prostitute he just paid for."

Embarrassed, Erwin looks down. To his surprise, he even feels warm in his cheeks, which can only mean one thing, that he just blushed.

He has refused to be attracted to anyone so, so much, to focus on titans and nothing else. These are the consequences: an innate clumsiness in this kind of situation. Because it's the worst time, the worst person, the worst context, the worst…

The worst future if he doesn’t put the human to sleep to become the demon; those fallen shoulders, the image that has been repeated twelve times in this corps.

He must change the destiny of every commander here; he must do so if he wants to be the one who makes a difference. He must change the future that always seems inevitable, do it together with Levi, this winged person of majestic talent, his biggest inspiration to reach the truth that sleeps on the other side.

The truth…

He must…!

"I'm sorry…" he mutters, and the weight of Levi's eyes on him mixes with shame, with anguish, with tension.

He has ruined everything. 

Levi's cup hits the table with a little more emphasis than necessary.

"The usual in a situation like this one would be to deny looking at me like that," Levi says with an explicit harshness in his voice. Erwin cannot help but agree, though not out loud. Because he mustn't want someone by his side, not now! Because this is not the… "If your idea of _falling down_ was _to fall on top of me_ or some shit seen as normal by people like you, who grew up in a world covered with walls, but which has a sky and not broken pipes from which the shit the rich crap falls, let me clear this up to you from now on until one of us dies: I trust your judgment out there, I know that the only one capable of making the difference this group of suicides needs is you, damn it, and I know you'll be a great commander because at least you see _something_ beyond, you see a fucking question mark where most people only see titans that want to eat them. But listen to me carefully, Erwin Smith…" Levi moves one cup, moves the other, and jumps on the desk with the sole intention of grabbing his shirt collar with both hands. "I'm not going to be your whore. I'm not criticizing your tastes, fuck whoever you want, but don't get me into your shit. I won't let you."

One second, just one, as before, as usual, and Erwin feels the anguish squeeze him, and squeeze him, and squeeze him. Not now, he can't. 

Not like this, not before Levi, not before the person he doesn’t want to disappoint, the one he needs the most.

Not before the wings of freedom beside which he dreams of discovering _the_ truth.

He breathes heavily; around him, a kind of fog spreads, or so it says the despair that fills him. The anguish squeezes with its ghostly hands, squeezes until he suffocates and covers all his skin with cold sweat. He looks for air, but hands are too tight.

He swings, desperate. Before him, in the fog, Levi goes from fury to surprise, and from surprise to worry. But Erwin doesn't see him, he sees him less and less: in the fog, Levi, as well as the Survey Corps, as well as his dreams and hopes of making amends for all the evil he caused to the one he loved the most in the world, moves away, leaves.

No…

"You're fucking kidding me…" Levi whispers as he loosens his grip on his collar, as he gets close to him, but Erwin doesn't listen to him, not to Levi, not to anyone, because everything goes away, because all his chances are gone; Erwin holds on to his chest, terrified, with trembling lips and tears clinging tightly to his eyes, and begs as he always does when this happens to him.

"I can't let him down…" he mumbles as he stands, "I-I can't…"

"Old man, uh… Hey! Do you hear me?!"

"I can't let him down, not like this, not now, not…!"

"Fuck, I can't believe it," Levi seems to say as Erwin struggles to catch his breath, to get rid of the ghostly hands, to stop the sweat, and the shaking, and the chills; the feeling of falling, of vanishing into the fog, of sinking into a hole from which there will never be a return: the guilt. "Blondie, hey! Pay attention to me, old man, come on! You've to get out of there!"

But Erwin doesn't listen, he doesn't understand.

He doesn't react, not in the fog, not in the dark, not with the ghostly hands of anguish suffocating him.

Not with that shadow that always walks behind him, the one that reminds him, every day and every night, that there will be no freedom until he fulfills his promise.

There will be no freedom, not for him, until he discovers _the_ truth.

"I can't let him down…! I have to…! I promised him that…!" he shouts as he leans back, which destabilizes his chair.

He falls to the ground, sideways, as he squeezes his neck, his chest, struggling to keep himself from exploding in one thousand pieces, in a million.

And Levi's eyes look down on him, as ghostly as the hands that suffocate him twisting his heart mercilessly. 

And Erwin feels it's too late, that he's already ruined everything.

That he can never get close enough to the freedom of his soul, not without Levi, not without the brightest wings he has ever seen. 

Alone, inside the darkness, the one he has traced around himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Thank you so much for reading and for your beautiful comments. You make me the happiest person in the world!
> 
> First of all, about the panic attack, to do some research to get more attached to reality it's always right, I did it before writing this chapter, but I based it mostly on my own experience. It's a horrible moment, and I tried to write from that place.
> 
> Although this is not a canon, according to the analysis I made, it doesn't seem to me to be out of place in Erwin, not considering the guilt he carries, the self-demanding, his dream and the tragedy associated with it: the death of his father. Mr. Smith and Kuchel are two characters that I love and I want to talk about them here. I hope I can do at least a little properly.
> 
> About Levi's age: at least in the circle of fans I had the opportunity to know (a dear friend, my brother and some girls from Facebook that I know from my previous fandom) I saw surprise about Levi's age more than once. I was surprised too! If we make a mistake as fans, maybe even Erwin, more focused on work than anything else, could get confused too. It's not something I've seen much in fics and I found it a bit entertaining to include.
> 
> About their ages: in SNK, my hc is that Erwin is 36 and Levi 31. So here, in 844, they are 31 and 25/26. I was going to make Erwin a little older, but I like the five years of difference (?).
> 
> And that's it, I promise not to make such long notes again.
> 
> THANKS FOR READING! ♥♥♥


	6. VI

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry! I will keep learning English! ♥

**VI**

It's not the first time this has happened to him, that he's been looked at like a whore or that someone has had this kind of anguish attack in front of him.

He lived the first thing countless times in the Underground: it's incredible how many rich men, in the shadows and behind the backs of the supposedly exemplary society to which they belong, are willing to pay very high figures to take a man like him, with a teenage face and small build, to bed. Of course, Levi never accepted, but he could: he had enough offers. 

Fucking pigs.

The second, he remembers trying to look Erwin in the eye, it happened to Isabel time to time: since those bastards had hurt her (Levi never asked what they did to her; she was free to talk about it or not, so he respected her silence. Nothing would have saved them from dying as they died under his knife, anyway) that she had many strange episodes, one of them this one, this attack Erwin is having in his presence. He holds his chest and breathes hard, as if he were drowning, and whispering in a raspy voice that he cannot let whoever it is down, that he cannot, that he promised he wouldn't. Cold sweat covers his neck, his hands; Levi holds his wrists and tries to do what he and Farlan did with Isabel.

Get him out of there. 

"Blondie, hey, look at me. You have to come back! Come on, stop whispering shit, come back. Take a deep, slow breath, as the Corps' doctor recommends in cases of panic outside the walls. Wow, it was good to hear that shit!" He squeezes his wrists, searching his eyes as he watches Erwin's breathing regulate gradually. "That's it, old man: come back here."

Levi cannot count time, he doesn't know if minutes or hours pass; all he knows is that Erwin Smith, the man he has decided to follow even to hell if his strength is needed there, is fucked up. Like the guy with the constipated face, like commander Shadis judging by the way he screams at night as it's whispered in the hallway. Like maybe everyone living under this roof is. 

As he is, fucked up for life.

Something about the Survey Corps feels like the Underground, it's more familiar to him than he would like it to be: there is a lot of anguish floating around in the air, although it comes from other things. Here they have food, they don't have to sleep with one eye open because of the recurring thefts, they don't have to kill anyone to survive, they don't have to sell their bodies or endure abuse as if it were part of the rules…, but they have to live with the deaths of their comrades on their shoulders, they have to survive to change things at least a little bit, they have to try to fight their demons and win every battle, however tiring it may be.

Here, at least, they use violence in pursuit of freedom.

Although many did the same in the Underground as well. Freedom was different, it led to another prison, the one inside the walls, but the concept was the same.

It's still hell. The one of killing people, the one of not being eaten. It'll still be hell unless he learns to do what this guy does.

To see beyond.

Erwin, sitting on the floor after falling out of the chair, leans forward and breathes as deeply as he can. Levi leaves him when he does, squats next to him. When he feels Erwin coming back, he gets up and sits down on the desk, one leg over the other. Serious, he watches him as he continues to catch his breath.

Levi _hates_ to be looked at with lust. If there is anything in the world that makes him uncomfortable to a simply unbearable point, it's that, the desire in a person's eyes pointing at him, like an arrow with a snake's head on the tip, a thin tongue ready to touch him. Growing up in a brothel taught him, against his will, to grasp quickly that kind of gaze: he saw it in every customer who knocked on the door, just before he ran into the next room. There, Lola, another prostitute, watched over him until his mother’s return. Meanwhile, Lola used to talk to him about different things, perhaps thinking of giving him warnings or advice that might be useful when he grew up. Stuff like _remember to be gentle with a woman, you have to be a gentleman with them, not like most of the guys who come here to see your mom. Remember not to hit them, not to force them, to be sweet and loving._

_Don't be a pig!_

Lola told him that so many times that Levi told his mom about it one night when they were trying to sleep despite the cold that filled the room.

_"Why aren't they gentle with you if Lola says all men should be gentle with women?"_

_"Does Lola say those things when she takes care of you, sweetie?"_

_"Yes. I don't quite understand what she means, but I don't like to see you like this, Mom…"_

Full of bruises, scratches, injuries. Full of pain in the eyes.

Levi is surprised to note that, like Erwin, he's struggling with his breathing. He learned too many things too quickly in that brothel, many of which he only understood as he grew up. That's why he doesn't care about sex, because he knows that, in pigs, it brings out the worst kind of violence. Like the one her mother faced, like the one Isabel may have faced. 

Sex turns men into monsters.

He grew up knowing he would never touch a woman - shaped by the violence Kenny had taught him, he didn't want to become the thing that had hurt his mom so badly. 

To his surprise, however…

"Levi…" Erwin whispers as he struggles to get up from the floor. He's disheveled, bathed in cold sweat, his eyes sad, tired. "I'm sorry… I…"

"Do you feel sorry for having an attack like that? Come on, I'm not such a bad person: even though I didn't think you suffered from things like that, well, I can understand that it's normal among lunatics who come here to kill titans," he answers. He keeps his legs crossed, but holds on to the edges of the desk to keep his voice calm: for his previous experience with Isabel, he knows he has to talk to Erwin properly, that to keep fucking with his head isn't a good idea. "If you're sorry about the perverted pig's eyes, I don't know, I don't know anything, I just know that I hate being looked at like that and that I don't owe you any explanations: it's my bloody problem, and I thought it was important to clear it up. Of course, my intentions were different; I didn't want to fuck you up like that."

Erwin picks up the chair and sits on it at a safe distance from Levi, something he appreciates in some way; it conveys respect.

"I've had these episodes since I was a teenager," Erwin confesses. "There are times in which I don't have them, but they come back during times of stress: I guess knowing that I'll be a commander soon has put me more on edge than would be ideal in our situation."

"You said it, blondie: we're still human. Or did that guy Moblit say it? Or was it four-eyes? I don't remember who said it; the point is it's true, so don't apologize for not being a piece of wood hanging from the ceiling, because it's stupid."

Erwin smiles at him; there is no sign of lust in his eyes, just a kind of warmth, of gratitude.

"Thank you, Levi."

Levi folds his arms and closes his eyes.

"I did nothing: it happened to Isabel too; all I did was help you as Farlan and I helped her."

A silence. Erwin breaks it:

"I'm so sorry for her, I know how difficult it is. Life on the Underground is perhaps more terrible than I can imagine. It makes me… it makes me feel bad."

"Why?"

"Because understanding you as you deserve to be understood is more difficult for me."

Levi opens his eyes: Erwin looks at him with explicit anguish, with regret.

He looks at him as a child who has done something wrong, childishly.

"I didn't want to look at you like that; I didn't want to invade you like that." To Levi's surprise, Erwin blushes. He doesn't blush unabashedly, like a teenager; it's just a slight shade of pink over his cheekbones, nothing more. It's the blush of an adult worn out by life, with more lack of affection than he can count. "I won't lie to you: I'm attracted to you, but I didn't bring you here with hidden intentions; I just wanted, I don't know, to know you a little more, to talk to you, to learn to understand you."

Tense thanks to that weird statement, from finding so much honesty in one person, Levi holds on to the edges of the desk again.

"And what do you want to understand me for?"

Erwin takes a deep breath.

"I've been here long enough to know how important it's to be understood. No one in this corps has ever managed to stop feeling vulnerable, to be human, to overflow his humanity in different ways. We all need vulnerability, falling to get up; it's the fate of those who choose this path, it's the only way to survive that I know. So… I wouldn't want you to…"

Finally, Erwin looks down and keeps quiet. 

Levi doesn't; looking at him, he analyses him as quickly as he can, full of mixed information on an imaginary desk in the middle of his mind. When he finds the answer that he was looking for, answering is certainly simple:

"If you're worried about my vulnerability, I know how to handle it. And you're wrong about one thing: The Underground and this nut house aren't that different, not as much as you might think. They are hells, the hell of those who don't see the sun and the hell of those who see the sun covered by a wall. The light is different, but the feeling is similar. I don't want you to worry about me. I won't let you do that, Erwin Smith."

"It's just that…" Erwin whispers. 

Levi raises one hand to stop him.

"No," Levi continues. "I won't let you, and I mean it. Especially considering what you just said to me: how can you be attracted to me? Are you crazy? What the fuck do you see in me? I'm surprised a guy like you likes men, even though I'm not one to judge."

Erwin laughs. What a piece of…! Although his eyes seem to recover that lust-like tone for a moment, he soon becomes the one Levi knows, the immaculate one, that Erwin who gives good advice, who seeks the truth out there.

Levi realizes, not without surprise, that he doesn't feel uncomfortable to look at him in the eye.

His hands put more pressure on the desk; he’s nervous.

What the…?

"I don't know what talent you have, but no one makes me laugh as much as you do. I don't mean that negatively, Levi: I'm grateful for that." Erwin stands up, combs his hair with his fingers; there is a nice grace in his movements, that neat thing Erwin always has, that everyone always admires him. "I don't know how it was: I had a girlfriend when I was a teenager, Marie, although it was a very casual thing; we never had a serious bond. It didn't hurt to leave her behind to join the Survey Corps, and I would say that more than once I felt bad for not feeling sad enough; I was worried about not suffering enough for things like that.”

Erwin walks around the desk. Levi turns a little to look at him: behind his back, he’s still smiling, as if that episode of anguish hadn't happened. Although, in his eyes, he can tell that it has. 

"Later, I walked in here with Sam, the bar owner's son. Nile, another friend we had in our training days, stayed at the MPs."

"Speaking of useless people…"

Erwin laughs again. He doesn't lie to him: Levi knows how to make him laugh.

Like even in a bar with his comrades of so many years he didn't.

"Sam died on our first expedition; it was very sad; I saw everything and I could do nothing to save him." Studying him out of the corner of his eye, Levi notices Erwin's seriousness when he says so: it seems everyone has had their first big loss here. "The night before we first came out of the wall, Sam climbed into my bed, crying. On a previous expedition, known as the Tragedy of the 30th Expedition, almost half of the Survey Corps had died when faced with a huge number of titans. They say there were more than 20 of them, all walking together, in groups, as if they had reached the same point at the same time, something that sometimes keeps me awake because it makes me think a lot. Anyway…" Erwin massages his temple; Levi frowns. Why spend time thinking about something like that? "That’s why the rooms were almost empty. That's why Sam and I were alone in that room."

To think about Farlan is easy when he listens to Erwin: a friend who had wanted to try something different before he died, because you have to try everything before you die, as Farlan himself always said.

Levi turns his back on Erwin; he needs privacy for this sad remembrance, one that hurts him more than it should, perhaps, but that it hurts him in the same way as the first day, when he saw his body there, in the steam, without the bottom and blood, so much blood around it…

When he opens his eyes after catching his breath, he finds Erwin standing before him, serious, with extreme empathy soaking his eyes.

"Sam told me he didn't want to die a virgin, and that he liked men, although we already knew that; Nile used to make fun of him a lot because of that."

"That Nile sounds like an asshole with a capital 'A' if you ask me."

Erwin's new laugh comes in slow motion: he laughs looking at the floor, with his eyes half-closed and with a very slight and aesthetic curve on his lips. Something in the image makes Levi uncomfortable, but at the same time, it pushes him to need the scene, to want to stretch it a little more. 

He feels his body filling up with a tension that he doesn't know; the sensation overwhelms him, even though he hides it as best he can.

"I wanted to say no, but I realized that something about Sam seduced me in a different way than Marie had. It wasn't a stronger or a more intense or an inferior feeling of another quality; it was just that, something different because it was someone else, but identical conceptually. I didn't want to say no, I had no way or will to refuse, so I gave in to passion without knowing that Sam would die the next day. It hurt me a lot to think that he was only with me in that kind of situation, but time has helped. However, I made a decision: not to get involved with anyone, to stay focused on our mission."

Levi nods.

"Well done."

Erwin nods too. 

"I didn't realize how much I was attracted to you until you told me your age, Levi." The statement sets up a different atmosphere in the office, a tension of another nature. "I don't like people who are younger than me, not if there's such a difference; my mind doesn't take them into account. But there was something about you that attracted me; I’m so silly, it was obvious that you weren't that young, now that I think about it. I thought it was admiration, you know? And it is."

Admiration? Levi raises an eyebrow. 

Before being able to say anything in response, to ask about the attraction, Erwin continues; his nervousness is more noticeable than before, it's as different as the atmosphere that is in the office, which is becoming denser.

More real.

"I know the prejudices around a man who likes men; in my position, I cannot afford to damage my reputation. It's stupid, if you ask me, that so many people judge someone who has a preference for their sex over the opposite. I mean, I don't see the difference, but this is also a game; to make the Survey Corps prevail involves negotiating with very despicable people. I have to abide by their rules to belong."

Levi nods like a thousand times: he understands every word Erwin says, he does it more than he would want: to survive in the Underground, similar rules reigned. That kind of _perverts_ , as many people call them there, were persecuted unjustly.

How stupid to treat these people like titans, when they deserve respect as those who feel another kind of attraction, those more accepted by the people, by religion, by the authorities, by the common sense invented by the pigs of the Capital.

Everything Erwin says makes sense: it’s the only reason he needs to trust him, to believe him during this outbreak of honesty.

To accept his absurd admiration.

"Besides, I know we're a minority," Erwin continues after a necessary pause considering how much information they're sharing like this, together. "I'm used to being unrequited. The few times I have been attracted to a man here, I have done nothing; I have ignored him and moved on. I’ll do the same with you because I respect you, I respect your strength, I respect your sacrifice and also the fact that you have no reason to feel the same. This is not the place to allow me this kind of feeling, I disagree with Mike and Nanaba on that, as much as I respect what they choose for their own lives."

Chills run down Levi's spine as he feels the surface of the desk getting cold under his hands; it's as if he's taking on another kind of self-awareness; as if he's learning something he didn't know.

Erwin is always ten steps ahead: he understands everything, he knows everything, he's able to analyze everything correctly, even his pain.

He admires him too.

He admires him much more than he wants to recognize himself.

For everything that he says, for everything he thinks, for the decisions he makes and the meaning they acquire in his environment.

No one has ever respected him like that before. 

"Then…" Levi whispers despite having no idea what to say.

A scream saves him: it’s Hanji, who opens the door with a violent push. They enter; Moblit is on their back. He looks unconscious.

"He drank _everything_ , I don't know where he put so much beer! I need a hand to get him into his room, help me!"

Erwin looks at Levi for a significant moment. Levi tells him something with his eyes.

_I won't say anything._

_I'll keep your secret, you old perv_.

Finally, Levi nods; he cannot speak before Hanji, but he needs to be understood. Erwin smiles at him just before he approaches Hanji.

He got the message.

Levi walks past them with the empty cups in his hands while Erwin holds Moblit in one arm and Hanji in the other. He says nothing, he doesn't even say goodbye. 

Once he's in his room after cleaning the cups and leaving them shining, he doesn't go to his chair.

He curls up in his bed, feeling a different cold than in that old room where violence will never exist. It's not because of the winter that's coming.

This cold has another kind of concept.

Without any more strength to think about it, humming the song with which he expresses and calms down his vulnerability, he closes his eyes.

Lola would be proud to know that men like Erwin Smith exist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Thanks for your comments, subscriptions, bookmarks and kudos! Thanks for giving this fic a try! ♥
> 
> I always forget to say this: you can find me on Tumblr (@nomoretears-707) and Twitter (@NMTears707). I don't post a lot (I RB/RT a lot XD) because I'm very shy, but if someday you want to talk about Eruri/SNK or something, I'm there. :') 
> 
> I'm very happy to be writing this fic and I thank you a lot for reading it!
> 
> I hope to update on Friday! Kisses and thanks! ♥♥♥


	7. VII

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm giving my best! Forgive all my English issues, please! I hope to learn more thanks to this fic! ♥

**VII**

Erwin and Levi have barely spoken since that early morning. Except for the training they have resumed with the next expedition in mind, which they want to carry out at the end of March, that is, when winter ends, they have not done so. They've both focused on what's important.

Not on the attraction.

Some weeks have passed, December started fifteen days ago; soon, most of the soldiers will leave the base to spend the Night of Hope and the New Year with their families, as is the custom among the people who live within the walls.

Loners, as Hanji calls those who have no family or partner to visit, will stay here.

It will be Levi's first birthday without Farlan and Isabel.

No one knows when his birthday is. Farlan and Isabel knew it, of course, and they made countless jokes about him being born on the Night of Hope, and Flagon, his first squad leader, now dead after that damned expedition, knew it too. Flagon had commented on that by checking his registration sheet. 

_"Were you born in the middle of the night?"_

_"Shortly after midnight, or so I was told."_

_"How inopportune, I'm sorry about your mother, though I'm sure Erwin would like to know this considering all the hope he's putting on you. But don't tell him: he'll become more mystical than he already is."_

Flagon was tied to a sad memory in his mind, but he never felt any affection for him, not considering how much he discriminated against their birthplace. He didn't care for himself, that kind of shit couldn't care less to him, but anyone who discriminated against Farlan and Isabel became his enemy. 

He has no interest or reason to keep a promise he didn't make to someone he never cared for, after all, but he also has no interest or reason to tell Erwin and the others about his birthday. 

He won't get emotionally involved with anyone, that's it. He never will, not again.

But something is starting to bother him.

Erwin Smith, precisely.

He looks at him: On a horse, Erwin advises beginners, shows them how the three-dimensional maneuvering equipment works in combination with the smoke flare during the gallop. There is not much to do today, the cold is starting to hinder their preparation. Mike had explained it to him months ago, shortly after his friends died: _in winter, we don't do much, we can't._

 _Getting outside the walls is impossible_.

What remains to be done is to make use of the time they have left before most of the soldiers leave. Then, in January, they will meet with pigs from the Capital to raise more funds for next year's expeditions. 

But the base is too clean, Erwin's office shines like porcelain and having nothing to do wakes up his worst enemy.

His mind.

The bastard doesn't stop, it makes him look at Erwin and analyze everything he does, everything he is. For example, the look that the soldiers give him: they look at him with admiration, full of hope, of noble aspirations, clean. Everything around Erwin Smith looks cleaner, as shiny as porcelain.

He likes that, and that's the main problem.

Erwin, above all, hasn't stopped behaving like a gentleman for a minute. When he talks to him, he does so respectfully, without looking at him more than a conversation requires. He maintains a gentle but professional tone, and expresses himself with an eloquence that would have made him a target of jokes in the Underground; he speaks like a damned intellectual. He denotes creativity, wisdom, experience. 

He’s almost perfect, and Levi doesn't understand what that word means.

In the Underground, he remembers sitting on the bark of an old fallen tree in the middle of the open field in which they train with the horses, he had grown tired of refusing exorbitant offers in exchange for his body. If he had not made a reputation for himself as an undefeatable lunatic, perhaps more than one pig would have tried to force him, but the violence had helped him, it had armored him. 

Kindness, gentleness, respect were values that not everyone had, that not even he had, not in a conventional way. Despite that, Farlan and Isabel loved him. They both insisted on being grateful. 

But Erwin Smith has everything.

Levi grew up knowing that his father didn't know of his existence, that he had been his mother's client in the brothel. This means that he grew up alone with his mother, not with a couple who raised him as other children were raised. Few in the Underground grew up in healthy family environments, like those he hears mentioned by other soldiers during lunch and dinner. _My parents help me, support my decisions, have always been good to me, always loved me_ …

_"And I love you, sweetie. Someday I'll explain to you why we're here…"_

He had that too, he had a healthy mother full of healthy feelings. The problem was the environment, as well as that secret which she, by the fate that had taken her from the world, never told him about. But he didn't grow up contemplating a healthy relationship.

He doesn't know what is that. 

He knows nothing about love, sex, emotional and physical expression of a healthy feeling. 

All he knows is that he needs to keep his distance from everyone, especially Erwin Smith. 

Erwin may still be attracted to him, he may still have lust behind that layer of prudence he has put over his eyes so as not to make him uncomfortable like that morning; Levi appreciates the respect he has promised him, the respect he has shown him every time that, for professional reasons, they have had to talk. But he can't lie to himself anymore.

He's attracted to him too. 

Because Erwin isn't a lunatic or a pig. He's fucked up like everyone else in the corps is, but he's not a bad guy.

Erwin Smith doesn't have a fucking defect. 

He doesn't even have that thing that Farlan had, that beautiful, warm-hearted, good bastard: Farlan preferred women. Sleeping with Levi had helped him to understand that.

_"Tell me you're not hurt by what I'm saying, please. It's not that I didn't like it: in fact, I did! It's just… Oh, it's just…!"_

_"Shut up and let's never talk about this subject again. I'm sick of this shit."_

If he understood correctly, Erwin likes women, yes, but he also likes…

"He's handsome, huh? Although most are intimidated by him."

Levi is startled to realize that he has been staring at Erwin with explicit intent for too long, long enough to be discovered. He also realizes that it's Hanji who has discovered him.

Hanji, damn it!

As he looks at them, he seems to do so fiercely, as Hanji leans back with their hands covering their chest.

"Before you say something like _four-eyes_ , _I don't know what the fuck you're talking about,_ please listen to me. Come on! It'll be fun."

Without an option, taking charge of his negligence, Levi crosses his arms and settles down on the bark. Hanji sits next to him.

"What the fuck do you want?"

"I think Erwin likes you."

Silence.

"And I think you like Erwin too."

More silence.

"And I think I understand why and I'm fascinated by the idea, but knowing Erwin, well, I can guess he'll never dare to try anything."

No more silence; Levi knows what he has to say in response to so much conjecture:

"Stay out of my business, especially as the one who thinks old Shadis is attractive."

Hanji stretches and smiles; it’s as if nothing Levi could say could hurt them.

"And what's wrong with that? It's up to each person! For example, Even you would like me if you didn't have that adorable little boy's face that is angry because nobody wants to buy him a toy."

"Shut up before I kill you."

"Oh, come on!" Hanji pats him on the back; Levi remembers Isabel and feels that the world loses a little bit of its color by perceiving her absence. Damn it. When will it stop hurting, weakening him? "Some of us can't help but feel things between our legs, I mean, love, sex; they're annoying things in this environment, I know, but when it's mutual it seems to me that it’s a pity to let it go."

"That means old Shadis doesn't feel the same."

"He doesn’t, though I’m okay with that: As I have heard, he could never forget a friend's wife; it seems he introduced them and the bastard stole her, though I hate that kind of anecdote, nor that she was an object to steal her, but you know how this world is for those who don't respond to the established rules, a beautiful hell!"

Although reluctantly, Levi agrees with them by nodding.

"So… does Erwin know you like him too?"

"No, and if you say something about it, I'll put you in the mouth of a titan myself, though I suspect that will please you more than bother you."

Hanji lets out a shriek of emotion; Levi covers his face with one hand, exasperated by their effusiveness.

"It would be great to let me swallow whole so I could see what's inside their stomachs, see the titans from the inside! But I can't do that, Erwin says it's suicidal, and besides… Well! About what we're saying: I won't tell anyone, don't worry. You know my word is unbreakable!"

With nostalgia, Levi remembers that it is: Hanji had promised him, Farlan and Isabel a dinner. But the two of them died, and Hanji invited extra food to him as soon as they returned to the barracks.

"I know," he answers quietly.

"But you can trust me, Levi: if you need to talk about this, I can…"

"Why would I talk about fifteen years old issues with someone your age? Why is everyone here so obsessed with talking, expressing their feelings, listening to each other? Talking doesn't solve anything."

"Solves a lot, Levi…" Hanji says in a serious tone. "Don't judge us that much: Entering here meant leaving everything behind, even our youth, because I remind you that those of us who came here of our own free will did so when we were twelve, thirteen, fourteen years old. Maybe it's like you say, and we're all irresponsible for behaving so immaturely, but it's a little inevitable, more so with this cold, more so without being able to put all our minds in what's important in this context."

Good point. Levi concedes by nodding once more. 

"Besides, who said that when you grow up you stop feeling certain things? Relationships change, we appreciate other kinds of things about being with someone, but actually, we can always consider ourselves idiots for something we feel, no matter how old we are."

That's true, maybe. But no: Levi doesn't nod this time.

"I don't want to talk about it, it's not important, I don't have to give it more importance than it deserves."

"Okay, I just wanted you to know that you can count on me."

"Alright, four-eyes. You…" Levi slows down: no, he can't give them that confidence. He feels his throat quivering. Damn it! "As long as you don't go on and on like you do when you talk about titans, you can talk to me about anything you want if you need to. I don't promise to listen to you, but I promise to let you talk."

The answer he expects is a shout, a hug, another pat on the back; the response Hanji gives him is a warm smile that reminds him of Farlan and Isabel.

His first birthday without them, after so many years of spending birthdays alone, after those first birthdays he has tried so hard to forget…

"Thank you, Levi. Same for you: as long as you don't talk to me about cleaning products, I'll listen."

Without further ado, Hanji leaves. Alone, Levi watches Erwin once more, but he doesn't find him where he was, but closer, walking towards him.

"Levi," he says as he reaches his place. His hair shines despite the cloudy sky that doesn't illuminate it enough, it sways with an almost hypnotic charm. "Could you come with me for a moment? I'd like you to show those soldiers your technique. They arrived a month ago, they’re few and they have put a lot of effort into their training, but I think seeing you will help them to improve the use of gas in motion."

Erwin Smith: that guy who smiles perfect, who talks perfect, who has perfect ideas and perfect intentions. Perfect all of him, even if Levi doesn't fully understand the significance of the concept.

Because Erwin Smith seems to defy even the most orthodox definitions.

"All right," he says without talking back. 

He has to focus on their mission, not on this teenage feeling that is beginning to suffocate him, one that cannot blossom, not here, not in this world, not with the person who creates it.

He can't stain that perfection.

.

.

.

The other night, he didn't want to look at him like that, smashing the block of ice that he lifts every morning before his own eyes to camouflage his most forbidden desires, those that he has tried so hard to dismiss for so many years, but he couldn't help it. He doesn't want to look at him like that again, without protection over his pupils; he wants to move on, to leave this feeling behind.

But then Levi flies through the sky like this, with this grace, with this talent, with this strength, as if he had wings.

But then Levi is Levi, plain and simple, and Erwin falls under his spell once again. 

Respect has been easy; for Erwin, respect is an inherent part of what it means to deal with people, even the most despicable. But, on the other hand, exploring the desire that filled him that morning has been almost imperative for him.

Has it been that long since the last time? He doesn't remember who the last person he liked was. He doesn't remember if it was a man or a woman; he doesn't remember anything, only the obvious: that person or the previous ones weren't what Levi is.

Someone who has him completely dumbfounded, in every possible way.

He has a talent only comparable to that of an artist: His skills are not limited to being effective, they are not just useful; they are aesthetic, they move, they inspire. He could watch him all day long as he shows what he knows to newcomers, marveling at every detail of his technique. 

He's wonderful.

His humor, so weird, so scatological, so dark and not for everyone, for some reason makes him laugh so much… He has something so unstructured, so different from that prudence he has, that constant decorum in order not to give away his emotions when playing the game of power. He's so different from him, they complement each other so much. 

His temperament, which he used to think of as that of a young man too experienced for his age, still inexperienced in dealing with others, acquires another nuance in the knowledge that he's almost 26: He has lived too long, it's not easy to deal with him not because he doesn't know how to handle himself, but because he handles himself like that, because he _is_ like that, but Levi goes on, and his empathy is real even when it lies hidden, and his eyes melt the block of ice of those who look at him at the right moments, just as when he sways in the sky. Everything about Levi is right.

And his beauty, wild, different, tender despite the violence that has shaped it; a cocktail of contradictions that only elevates the whole image, that only exalts it. He's so beautiful, he's so tailored to all that he has always considered beautiful that it saddens him. That’s why his movements captured him even while he was drinking tea, or cleaning, or walking down a hallway talking about the next expedition with him: he kept looking at him because he liked doing it. Because he needed it even though he couldn't recognize it. 

Knowing that it will never be possible to hold him in his arms, that he will never be able to kiss him, touch him, feel him, take care of him from all evil, from all lies, from all pain…

As if Levi needed it…! As if he needed to be taken care of being who he is.

As if Levi needed someone like him by his side.

Levi ends his explanations; the recruits are stunned, whispering among themselves a thousand and one things.

_This is Humanity's Strongest Soldier for real. Rumors weren't in vain; it's all true._

_This guy represents that little hope all of humanity has._

That's what it's all about: Levi is the revolution.

Not his creation, as he thought at first, trying to keep away from his emotions to be a future commander who is competent enough, structured, devoid of weaknesses that could knock down his shoulders. He's something else.

Levi belongs to humanity.

That is why, because he belongs to everyone, he will never have the right to gather him, to hold him in his arms, only by themselves, no matter what happens outside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! 💗
> 
> I said I was going to update on Friday and I could have done it, but I was a little sad the last few days. Today I decided to feel better!
> 
> About the Night of Hope: Since SNK's world is not ours, I don't like the idea of thinking about Christmas as what it is for us; I feel that it would make more sense to think of it differently. With that in mind, I thought I'd describe it as a slightly different holiday, although quite similar in symbolic terms. There are more details in the next chapter.
> 
> I know that technically Christmas is canon if we think of some official arts (?), but I don't know, I wanted to give it another touch, one that can give another kind of symbolism to Levi's birthday.
> 
> About Levi and the fact that his birthday seems to be important to him, well, there is a reason that will be clear in a couple of chapters, although you can imagine a little what happens with that: it's not about his birthday itself.
> 
> About Hanji: I'm a big fan of their comradely relationship with both Levi and Erwin. I like to think of Hanji as that character who, while they don't have the bond that Erwin and Levi have with each other, do have a slightly stronger bond than the rest of the characters have with them.
> 
> Thanks for reading! I'm going to get a little slower with the updates because I'm going to be busy, but I hope to come at least every ten days to update. At that rate, I have updates guaranteed until May! XD
> 
> Thanks for everything, I appreciate with all my heart the support you give to my fic by commenting, giving kudos and sharing. 💗💗💗


	8. VIII

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forgive my English, please! I gave my best! ♥

**VIII**

The Night of Hope is celebrated at midnight, between December 24th and 25th. No one knows what they commemorate; some theories say that the information about the origins of this celebration was left on the other side of the walls, like so many things in this reality that is so difficult to explain; others say that it's a custom so old that it would be impossible to confirm its origins. 

The point is, they don't fucking know anything about it. 

The idea is to meet with loved ones, have dinner, serve a glass of wine at midnight and toast so that all wishes come true; in general, if it's possible, the toast is accompanied by an exchange of gifts. He remembers, with bitterness, when he used to toast with his mother: he was the only child in the brothel, others had preceded him, but he was the only one left; his mother toasted with her mutuals in Lola's room, the oldest of all those prostitutes. Since Levi was very young, they used to give him water while they drank wine and toasted to the classic things in the Underground: health, money.

_"Let's toast to getting out of here!"_

To get out of there, yes. To leave the Underground behind forever.

The Night of Hope is the one in which people are allowed to dream. That's why, because he was so loved by his mother, or so she said, she adored his date of birth: that he was born at midnight couldn't have made her happier.

_"Because you were the most perfect gift I could have hoped for, sweetie."_

No, it wasn't just something she said; Levi believed her. 

He always will.

Every year, when they toasted with Lola and the others, he was the only one who received gifts. Food was the most common thing, a piece of bread, an apple, a cookie. It was the same with Farlan and Isabel: they gave him wine to share between the three of them. 

He looks at how some soldiers enter the barracks with the meat they bought from the Reeves Company for dinner and wonders, in spite of knowing it, how he got here, to a place where they can afford such luxury. 

How, without her, without them.

"Levi?"

He looks at his right: Moblit has a notebook in his hand; there is a Hanji’s drawing as a titan on a sheet of paper, made with pencils. Every detail is excellent.

"Did you do it?"

"Uh… Yeah," he replies. "Can I ask you if you think Hanji will like it?"

"It's a fucking titan; four-eyes would jerk off every night looking at that drawing; good idea to draw the titan so similar, so Hanji doesn't ruin it."

Moblit has a nervous laugh.

"I guess that means it looks good."

"It looks great, you're talented. If you ever want to get out of here, you'll find work in a print shop, or as a street artist, you know, drawing naked women for a few coins."

Moblit squeezes the notebook against his chest as he closes it. As Levi has observed, this guy is very upright, very serious and responsible, which contrasts almost perfectly with Hanji’s innate disorder and sloppiness. Anyone who can take care of the chaos around four-eyes deserves a little sympathy from him. 

"You're very kind, Levi. Thank you."

For some reason he’s not able to analyze in time, Moblit's manners make him comfortable enough to carry on a little bit.

"And how is the Night of Hope here?" he asks. "Everybody hold hands and say _you_ _can count on me if you need to talk_ and that cheesy stuff you say?"

Moblit takes a moment to think about it. Finally, he responds laughing:

"We eat a lot, drink a lot, have a big party and try to sleep for hours, if possible until noon, or more. It's the only day of the year when we get carried away like this, even on New Year's Day we don't. I guess… we need this license in our behavior. To have hope is difficult here; we prefer to enjoy having arrived at this time of year alive, to celebrate having had hope in spite of so many adversities."

Moblit smiles at him. It's sweet and kind.

"I see," Levi answers, and walks away from him without looking back. 

Then he will go to bed early, very early, he thinks as he walks as quickly as possible; he will go early and avoid all contact. 

He can't fail, not on this mission.

The celebration is two days away: many have already left the base; others are preparing to leave. The exodus is even more noticeable than on the weekends after an expedition, as many of the loners will not stay either. For example, Mike and Nanaba, who have booked a quiet cabin near Stohess to spend the celebrations in absolute privacy. 

He meets them as he walks to the stables: they are saying goodbye to Erwin, all three standing by a carriage. Erwin shakes their hands, smiles at them and shuts the door. The carriage moves away, and Levi looks at it full of longings that he doesn’t understand, that he doesn’t even notice.

"They'll be back on January 2nd, I think," Erwin says as he passes by him, heading inside the barracks. "There will be very few of us left for the celebrations. Considering that we are currently around one hundred and seventy members, that more than one hundred are leaving is a lot to say." Erwin stops behind him. "Will you stay?"

Levi frowns still looking at the path the carriage wheels have left on the ground.

"I have nowhere to go," Levi answers.

"Neither do I. I hope you'll allow me to invite you a glass of wine after midnight."

"I won't say no, but I'll go to sleep after the toast."

"Won't you stay for the party?"

"Do I look like someone who enjoys parties?"

He listens how Erwin laughs; weeks without hearing that laugh. The sound relaxes him more than it should.

"Actually? No. I'm not staying either, anyway."

"You'll surely make a new strategy: some people say that drinking makes you more creative; maybe it will inspire you, future commander. Or take a shit, because you'll eat like a pig for sure."

Another laugh. So soft, so brief, but so sincere.

"Do I look like someone who eats a lot?"

"Actually? Yeah."

They look at each other at the same time, as if the need to do so had appeared at the same moment within each of them: a peace reigns, something that fits, that works.

It's unbearable.

"Will you go to your office now?"

"No, I'm meeting Hanji in the lab. Can I help you?"

Levi walks away. While he's doing it, he says:

"I'll go clean up."

.

.

.

"Thank you…" Erwin whispers as he watches him walk away, knowing Levi won't listen. 

He begins to lose his temper, and he knows it: Levi doesn't like him; he's fascinated by him. The strange thing is that he has never had such a hard time with what he tries so hard to do, to stop thinking about him, to concentrate on his business. He does so, of course, because his soul belongs to this cause and will do so until his last day, but at night, when he's alone in his room, every thought related to Levi skillfully avoided during the day attacks him, they all do, they all appear at the same time.

He doesn't have time for this. 

Maybe, he needs a little more patience. It may take longer than it usually does, but this exacerbated feeling will leave his mind, his skin, his heart. Everything will be gone, and only what's left will be left forever.

The truth. 

He's not a teenager; this moment will end.

He goes with Hanji, and they welcome him into their lab-cell with a smile on their lips and elbows on their desk. They give a small bottle to Erwin; he takes it and puts it in the inside pocket of his jacket.

"It may not be enough, but it should help calm your attacks," Hanji assures. "I'm not a specialist in these things, I'm sorry. I included several natural remedies in the formula, extracted from various kinds of flowers."

Erwin nods and whispers a _thank you_. Hanji leans over the surface of the desk to get closer to him:

"Have you had any attacks recently? It's been a while since you asked me for a painkiller."

"A few weeks ago," Erwin confesses without getting excited; Hanji has known about this for a long time, he has no trouble talking to them openly about it. "I'd like to make sure I have something to help me before I assume as commander, maybe I'm pushing myself a little more than I should."

"I have no doubt that's what you're doing, but Erwin, don't worry: everyone here respects you; people respect you, and you've created a brilliant tactic that has saved many lives on the last few expeditions. Besides, you have someone very strong by your side, someone who's willing to go to hell for you."

How inevitable to smile when he thinks of Levi as if just hearing that name whispered timidly by his mind reminded him of all the comments he makes, how he makes him laugh, how much he inspires him to fight, to stand up, to go on.

"It's weird to see you like this, Erwin," Hanji says. "Even though I've known you for over ten years, no, I've never seen you like this."

"How?"

"Seduced."

Guilty. 

Erwin doesn't give away any emotion when he responds, or so it seems to him:

"But you know it won't last: I don't have time to establish such a bond."

Because time will help him: he will forget.

"I know, no one here has it, it’s not as easy as it is for Mike and Nanaba…" They lean back, rest against the back of the chair, cross their legs and smile at him. "Erwin, you're a good person; there are feelings that it’s worth to explore. You've been through a lot."

"We've all been through a lot here."

"But each experience is different for each person; your experiences have forged you in a certain way and that is why they affect you in a way that only within you makes sense. Don't forget to allow yourself some joy too. Maybe that joy shouldn't be projected on Levi, I understand, but project it somewhere."

Two smiles, two sighs, and little left to do there: Hanji knows that, just as on previous occasions, he will do nothing about it.

Although Levi is not like any previous person; that's the big problem. 

As he walks towards his office in complete silence, the thoughts he usually avoids during the day walk behind him: he has been the living representation of respect over the last few weeks, he knows it, he has calculated it with such coldness that it has been like being outside the walls. However, there is one thought that has grown inside his mind since he watched Levi sweep the floor of his office a few days ago, right after he refused to receive help.

"Stop crying, old man: the work you do at your desk is more important than this. Besides, I clean better than you."

"I’m sure you’re right, but how do you know that?"

Without turning towards him, sweeping with that particular grace in every movement of his arms, Levi answered him dryly:

"The filth I found when I first came in here told me enough: You're clean, I know, it shows, you don't care so much about your hair in vain, but you don't know how to keep your surroundings clean."

Almost as if he had described him not only in that aspect, that of cleanliness and order, but his daily life. 

Is he ready to become that person, that demon who can sacrifice everything for the truth?

Levi understood how he felt at that very moment, before him, watching him sweep up instead of paying attention to the book he was reading about combat tactics written by the first commander of the Survey Corps, the founding book of this organization. He understood everything, without effort, thanks to that empathy that he brings out subtly but accurately.

Levi continued to clean; Erwin continued to watch him, marveling at how his body swayed as he swept, like a feather, traveling beautifully back and forth, to wherever the wind decided to take it.

Tense, he lost patience: He was looking at him with lust, he was sure; he felt the lust inside him, a presence that was almost unknown considering how much time had passed since the last time he felt something like this.

He massaged his temple; it was unacceptable.

But…

He'd never been like that before, he thought.

Never.

He got up and left. In the bathroom, he looked at himself in the mirror thinking about Levi, about the swinging of his body, about how aesthetic his movements were. In his eyes, he found the same seriousness and composure that experience had given him as a reward for his efforts.

No: He had never been that kind of man, one capable of filling himself with an enormous desire that he was unable to control, a desire that went beyond the barriers of the other person. Plain and simple, the man Levi saw it wasn't him.

But Levi had felt that in his eyes, even though these, by denoting attraction, didn’t show the dirt he had described.

That can only mean one thing, Erwin thinks now, walking to his office, as he remembers that moment in front of the mirror.

Levi has a different sensitivity to this kind of thing. In turn, that may have to do with a bad experience, with something that has hurt him.

He brakes at his office door; he’s sure Levi is inside.

Just the thought of that, of that pain, makes him deeply sad.

He enters the office: Levi, with a white handkerchief covering his hair and another covering his mouth, cleans book by book from the library, on a ladder. He uncovers his mouth when he notices his presence.

Erwin looks at his office: it's as if it were glowing.

"Ah, you're back." Levi returns the last book to the library and walks away from it as he elegantly descends each step of the ladder. He picks up his cleaning supplies; they cross each other at the door. "Books gather too much dust, read them more often."

Erwin wants to laugh; he can't, not this time, looking him in the eye with only one question on his mind.

How many awful things has this man been through, that such a shy look from someone so clumsy in relationships has passed all the protective barriers that cover his eyes? 

"Thank you, Levi."

"Forget it, stop being so cheesy."

He sees him leave in silence, the stoic gesture like a block of ice that protects his silvery, mysterious eyes, so cold despite the heat that violence generates in them. As he watches his steps along the hallway, so harmonious, so feline thanks to the undeniable grace of those athletic legs, Erwin thinks of talking to him, of inviting him another tea; he thinks of keeping him, of hogging him for at least a few minutes.

No, he can't.

Knowing that he has made the best decision when he no longer sees him in the hallway, knowing that his heart and skin disagree with his mind judging by the sweet agony in which they induce him, Erwin sits at his desk to make a list: tomorrow morning he’ll have a couple of hours to go to the commercial area, perfect moment to make a few purchases of personal items.

He thinks of the usual, lists all that he needs. He looks at the pile of books on his desk, which don’t contain a single speck of dust. Levi has cleaned them up, too, and he has left Mike's squad members' registration sheets lined up perfectly next to them.

Those sheets…

Levi, last name unknown, Humanity’s Strongest Soldier, almost 26 years old.

 _Almost_?

Without hesitation, he gets up and goes to the records office. Finding Levi's registration sheet takes him less time than he thought.

Birthday: December 25th.

Erwin doesn’t raise his eyebrows in surprise; he furrows them gently, expressing emotion. If there was a perfect date for his birth, it was the one that commemorates the hope of all humanity living within the walls.

He caresses the date on the sheet before he realizes that he’s doing it; without realizing all that this caress and this emotion and this admiration mean. 

He files the sheet, goes back to his office, sits down at his desk. Writing down the gift he wants to give him for his birthday is easy, not as easy as the idea, so far away from him, so unattainable, to stop thinking about Levi.

He's getting too distracted; these days off make his mind overly active, make him shout out everything he doesn't shout out during the year. These days are difficult for people like him, so full of guilt, so overcome by pain that he’ll never be able to leave behind. 

Because he chose to carry it. He promised himself, also his dad.

But _he_ didn't…

The anguish slides its hands across the skin of his neck. Erwin shivers from the cold that the air in contact with the sweat that covers his body causes; no.

He can't, no.

He looks at his hands while struggling to catch his breath: the right one, worn out by life, is the one with which he’ll lead the Survey Corps to death. 

With a scar in the middle, it’s also the one who recruited the most valuable soldier they have ever counted on, the one who will carry the hope of truth on his shoulders even when no one else can accompany him. Levi is that talented; he will prevail.

But that hand, above all, is the one at fault, the one that carries the weight of all that it has caused by its senselessness.

It's been so many years, so many, and he's still paralyzed by loneliness. That house to which he had to return with no one, from which he left without being dismissed; the place to which it will never make sense to return.

Not without the truth.

Not without what he promised that grave.

Shivering, he takes a drink of the liquid Hanji prepared for him. He lies down on the back of the chair and, with his eyes closed, takes care of his breathing. The moment ends, the anguish loosens its grip, and when he opens his eyes, he only sees one thing before him.

The promise he made, which is covered by a beautiful, powerful shadow that will soon disappear.

Because he made his choice.

He's not going to make the same mistake the others did. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANKS FOR READING! 💗
> 
> The hits, if we look at them symbolically, represent the number of people who gave this fic a chance. It's the first time I've reached 1000 in AO3 and I'm very, very happy. 
> 
> Thank you very much for giving my story a chance, it means a lot to me. :')
> 
> There's something I'd like to explain, because I know that maybe it's a bit boring to read: you'll notice that, until some things settle down between Erwin and Levi, something that's going to take some time, I'm going to use a lot of the free time they have to develop their relationship. They are still in the military and they are working hard for something important; using these spaces of small freedom seems to me to be the most appropriate way to respect canon material. Afterwards will come the action scenes, the trips, the political intrigues, the espionage (?). But for now I want to concentrate one hundred percent on imagining how they were able to get close to each other intimately (on a physical, mental and emotional level) for the first time. 
> 
> I hope I don't bore you too much. Thank you. :')
> 
> Chapter X is going to be a bit longer than the previous ones. I try not to make very long chapters because translating them is really hard to me and I don't even have a beta, but I needed to put together what were originally chapters X and XI into one, because I didn't like the original cut.
> 
> Chapter IX is going to be like the others, 3 thousand words on average. I'm going to try to update it quickly, in a few days, because I want to take my time to prepare chapter X and the two that follow. 
> 
> Later will be other chapters longer than usual, there are already two that are written. It's all about making the reading dynamic for you. Sorry if it gets a little boring. 
> 
> Thank you very much for opening this link. 💗


	9. IX

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forgive me if there're some mistakes! I'm working hard on my English! Thank you! ♥

**IX**

He opens his eyes at 6 AM, as he does every day, just two hours after falling asleep, not a minute more, not a minute less. He gets up from his chair and turns to the window with his eyes closed, trapped in a bitter cold that makes him shiver to his bones.

White.

After washing himself, sweeping, and doing his morning exercises, Levi walks to the exit door in slow motion. He crosses the threshold and stops, stunned, although his stoicism doesn't give him away; it never does.

So, this is snow.

He sees some recruits playing snowball. He can't say they're all teenagers; even Hanji and Moblit are playing. It's all laughs, suddenly, under the snow that falls softly within the walls that December 24th. 

_ "I've always wanted to see it!" _

It's like he has her next to him when he hears her. One second later, it's as if he has her in front of him: he swears to see Isabel playing in the snow, throwing a thousand snowballs to Farlan.

_ "Everything goes white?" _

_ "Yes, sweetie: everything goes white! The floor, the roofs of the houses… You!" Tickles in his stomach, laughter echoing in the room of faded curtains. His mom, hugging him. "You'll see it someday, I promise! Someday we'll leave here, sweetie, and we will play in…" _

No.

Levi is clenching his fists. Hanji calls him, invites him to play as if he's not like that, as if he's not that fucked up, but the image of the white floor is, for him, like a blade splitting him in two. 

Shocked by the emotions exploding around him, he returns to the base.

He doesn't want to see snow.

He doesn't want to, not without the three of them.

Not without her laughing in his arms.

Happy.

Alive.

.

.

.

He looks at the snow through his window, he looks at other soldiers laughing as they play like children.

He sees himself, that childish version of him, playing with his dad.

Snow has always made him melancholic. The rain has that capacity too, but snow is different.

It's the thing that always takes him back to childhood, that makes him a child, the one he was, playing with the purest innocence in the world.

It's never children's fault, that's what he always thinks when he gets angry with that little Erwin, _Eyebrows,_ the boy who wanted to know more, everything, more than everything.

No child is at fault, except him.

Trying to leave the bitterness behind, he takes care of his routine like every morning before having a cup of coffee at his desk for breakfast. Behind the closed door of his office, he concentrates on the reports of old expeditions that he's analyzing to improve the performance of the Survey Corps; from behind, he gets the dim light that the cloudy sky brings, so he lights some candles that he usually reserves for the night. 

The light goes out, that of the sky and the candles, as the hours go by; he only stops when his stomach makes a dreadful noise.

4:15 PM.

He takes a deep breath, cranes his neck, scratches his eyelids.

Why didn't Levi come to clean out his office?

He looks at the reports, rereads loose lines; this is the way to the truth, not to get carried away by irresponsible attraction.

But Levi…

The door opens without anyone knocking it: it's Hanji, of course.

"Levi is acting weird," they say, serious.

Soon, they are before him: with a rag, Levi wipes the walls of the third-floor hallway with the same violence with which he kills titans. Erwin doesn't react to the image until he notices how Levi is clenching his jaw.

Fiercely.

"Levi, do you…?" he tries to ask.

"Leave me alone," he answers, always distant, always untransparent.

"But…!" Hanji exclaims.

"Go, now."

He soaks the rag, picks it up, scrubs with even more violence. He doesn't wear the gloves he always uses; his fingers are almost white from the cold water he uses to clean. 

"Levi…" Erwin calls him again.

"Get the fuck out of here!" he yells at them, and his silver eyes are two blades lurking.

Hanji tries to talk to him again; Erwin stops them.

"Let's go," he says to Hanji without hesitation.

"I think I finally understand," Hanji says when they return to his office, right after Erwin closes the door behind them. "I'm almost sure it's a compulsion: Levi cleans up to remove the stress of some kind of recurring thought. I think today is a bad day and that's why he's acting like that."

Erwin doesn't know why, but he feels very confident in his answer:

"You're right."

Levi has a compulsion for cleanliness, and the recurring thought that triggers the compulsion is related to something that hurts him in a stabbing way behind his usual stoicism. 

But what is it?

He thinks about the assumption that it hasn't given him any rest: Levi has different sensitivity for certain things, specifically those related to sex.

Does the obsession with cleanliness come from there too? Or does that obsession speak to another side of his pain?

Does it have to do with his birthday…?

"I'm not promising anything, but I'll try to talk to him," Erwin says without thinking twice, for Hanji's peace of mind, of course, but especially his. "Levi is hard to reach, one must be careful and very patient; I'll try to give him the confidence to speak if he needs to."

"If anyone is capable of such a thing, it's you."

Erwin looks at Hanji as he looks at everyone, with no emotion, but without coldness. He looks at them seriously, calmly, with everything he paints on his face to cover the guilt that has filled him for so many years. 

Shadis told him that two months ago: Levi must be one of his priorities if he wants to be a good commander. He doesn't have to see him as a weapon to make him that priority; he just has to see what Levi is, what they all are.

Humans, not demons who have already given everything in exchange for freedom.

Hanji leaves. In the barracks, the little more than forty soldiers left over after the exodus prepare for dinner and the party that will follow after midnight. Shadis enters his office at 6:15 PM, while Erwin reads the first commander's book without understanding why he can't concentrate.

Is it Levi or is it…?

"Today, you'll give the speech before dinner," warns Shadis, who stands at his desk.

Erwin looks at him with a hint of surprise throbbing in his blue eyes. The commander's shoulders are upright, but that's not the feeling they convey.

"I'm not sure that’s right."

"It is: it will be my last Night of Hope as commander."

On the outside, nothing in Erwin shows everything that goes on inside. He should be happy to know that one of his great goals is close, as happy as when Shadis told him he would quit, but no.

Within him, it's as if his heart descends, falls like a dead weight into the deepest abyss. 

He smiles, however, and nods even though, inside, he just runs, and runs, and falls into the abyss to reach his own heart.

Nothing changes, nothing, unless a sacrifice is made, that's what he thinks about when Shadis retires with his shoulders upright but defeated. That sacrifice won't be that of others, because they will give their hearts for the cause, not for him.

In return, in honor of so many deaths, he will let his heart sink a little deeper each expedition.

And how contradictory it's that this truth impacts him every day a little more now when he has met someone who is capable of stopping that free fall, who only needs to exist to pull his heart out of the abyss into which he falls, and falls, and falls into nothingness and with nothing to stop him.

He has held on to Levi, perhaps, for more reasons than he realizes. 

Much of what he analyzes may be true, he thinks when he stands up, unable to read another page; however, it's not more important than Levi's mere existence.

Levi is the problem, it's what Levi produces.

He, Erwin, is the problem. Levi is not responsible for anything. 

Erwin looks at the scar on his right hand just before entering his room, ready to change his uniform into more casual clothes.

It's what Levi told him, that he will fight alongside him, that whenever they have to fight, he will count on him. 

It's knowing that the one he admires the most has chosen him, it's the honor of having been chosen.

It's the little he thinks he deserves on the most insecure side of his heart, that who blames himself, that of the child who will always be the only one at fault for everything.

.

.

.

Although he's not the most appropriate example to describe someone affectionate, Levi is not a box full of hate: there are few things he hates.

Lustful looks.

Waste of food.

Dirt.

Inequality.

Finally, he hates cold. 

He detests it.

His mother had spent entire nights talking to him about snow, mentioning a grandfather she had, the one who had raised her, who took her for walks under the snow during winter. It was the only time she mentioned anyone from her past.

The rest of her family, if she had any, seemed not to exist. Just like Levi's father, no one existed in Kuchel's past, in Olympia's.

His mom, cold in that bed, frozen forever.

He feels his chest getting bigger, expanding and swallowing the rest of his being. Shivering from the cold that he feels sticking to his skin as he watches the snowfall in the middle of the afternoon, his window a picture of a beauty that he's unable to appreciate, Levi asks his mind to shut up, to be silent, to say no more.

That no longer reminds him of that image, the worst of all, the image that fucked up his already fucked-up life. 

He hums the usual song, he does it mentally, when he feels that the cold freezes even his heart: not even the melody helps him. Nothing does.

Nothing erases the image of death.

It's as if someone has put ink over his pupils; as if it were permanent.

It's not fair to be alone in this shitty cold again!

"Levi, dinner," Moblit says as he passes the door of the room in which he has been sleeping alone for two days, again. "Will you come?"

Wasted food: one of the things he hates. 

Levi nods; he walks beside Moblit to the dining room in complete silence. 

He will eat in their honor. Above all, in honor of her, of the one who protected him from cold, from violence, from hunger, from everything.

That person whom he will never forgive himself for not being able to save from hell.

.

.

.

As a custom, during the Night of Hope, water or juice accompanies the meal. Wine is open at midnight; beer shows up after dinner. So, Erwin lifts his glass of water as he stands in the middle of the barracks' dining room, a place where wood predominates, illuminated by candles that paint everything around them in gold. Next to him, at the table, is one of the other squad leaders, in addition to commander Shadis, Hanji, Moblit, and three other soldiers.

He takes a deep breath as he looks into the commander's eyes; Shadis nods.

Erwin turns before he starts talking: Levi is alone at the farthest table, dressed in dark clothes that are more informal than usual, with a jacket covering a loose shirt, and he doesn't look at him, not at all.

Erwin turns his back on Levi, hits the glass with a fork, gets all eyes on him.

All but one.

"The commander has asked me to say a few words before we bring dinner," he says. "It has been a difficult year, like the previous ones, like the ones to come, but if the Survey Corps remains it’s because all of us, those who are here and those who came before us, give our hearts without hesitation. We have fought for freedom, for justice, for truth, but above all we have fought for humanity, to make it prevail and free it from these walls that keep it blinded, far away from the world to which it belongs. We have fought for the hope of every child, of every adult, of every person who longs for freedom. I toast to the spirit of those whom we have lost this year! Even though they are no longer here, their strength survives in our fight. We must never forget that their hearts continue to beat through ours…!

"I toast to the hope of making them prevail!"

"To hope!" shouts everyone just before the general applause. 

Shadis nods as he applauds too. _All right_ , it's like he's whispering to him with his eyes.

_ You'll be a great commander, Erwin Smith _ .

Afterward, getting lost in the dinner is easy: trivial talks about how delicious the meat is, tasting the meat as if it were a kind of treasure (it is), enjoying the banquet. But that presence Erwin feels behind him burns, and burns on his skin.

He told Hanji he was going to try and talk to him. He told them, but he has no idea how to fulfill his promise, not while he feels trapped in a ritual he knows nothing about, about which he understands nothing.

_ "Why are we celebrating the Night of Hope, Dad?" _

_ "Who knows. It's one of the many mysteries left on the other side of the walls." _

And that keeps him awake sometimes. Thinking about why certain words describe certain things, why customs are ones and not others, why prejudices are ones and not others, why certain things are acceptable and others are not. It's like an empty registration sheet, with no data on the person in question. It’s a void in the sheet, part of the identity of a society pulled out from the roots.

Humanity, within the walls, is completely dehumanized. Because nothing is crueler than erasing the memory of a society by taking it away from the truth that forged it.

Midnight arrives and with it the toast with wine, the gifts, the greetings, the beginning of the party. Erwin shares his glass of wine with Hanji and Moblit; he gives them a drawing, Hanji screams with excitement when they see themselves as a titan, and pours their second glass while Moblit finishes his fourth.

Erwin turns, again: Levi's gone.

In the celebration that commemorates what he gives more than anyone to people, Levi is not there. On his birthday, on a date that couldn't be more perfect for someone like him.

Levi has chosen to be alone.

When he returns to Hanji and Moblit, he tries to distract himself; he must respect Levi's decision if he wants a moment of solitude, but he cannot. He understands, at last, that he doesn't want to be there, that he doesn't want to be part of the party. It's not his style, after all.

Without further ado, he leaves.

The commander follows him. He says goodbye to him before entering his room, the one next to his. 

"Will you sleep so early? You're too young to go to sleep at this hour as if you were a commander."

Erwin, holding his doorknob, smiles.

"I think I worked too hard today."

"Don't demand more than you can give, Erwin: don't make the mistake we all make; you're smarter than this."

Erwin looks into Shadis' eyes: he stares at him, seriously, his words trying to reach further than they seem to be able to. 

The mistake others make…

Not separating one's humanity from the mission for which they are fighting: the mistake of all the commanders of the Survey Corps.

The mistake he doesn't know how to evade.

"I think I'll read a little in my office," he says as he nods.

"You have quite different ideas than I do of what it means to have fun, but go ahead. I'll go kill some titans," Shadis says as he points to his head.

Because he will scream again, as he does every night, as he kills them in nightmares that never end well. 

Shadis disappears from the hallway as he enters his room. Erwin goes to his office, lights the fireplace and puts on his desk one of the wines he keeps for special occasions. Few, but significant in this context of anguish and death.

Without further ado, he's heading for the only possible place.

In front of Levi's door, he keeps his hand up for several seconds, without deciding to knock. He does, finally, and no one answers. He insists once, says _Levi, it's me_ twice, but nothing happens.

Is he sleeping? When he says that it’s possible, ready to surrender, he drops his hands on either side of his body. 

He failed.

But he doesn't.

A soft noise seems to come from the other side, almost imperceptible, constant, harmonious.

Sweet, yet melancholy.

He brings one ear to the door: someone hums a very, very sad melody. 

Although he knows that it’s not a good idea to invade him like this, that he’s passing a barrier that he shouldn’t and he has no right to pass, Erwin throws himself in: he opens the door, looks inside, and sees Levi sitting by the window, covered by a blanket, illuminated by the moon that slips through the clouds, the snow falling behind him, incessant. The image, despite the sadness it conveys, that of Levi trembling and illuminated by tones as silvery as his eyes, couldn’t be more beautiful. 

It’s him who hums with a broken, raspy voice, though endowed with a certain charm difficult to describe. Oddly enough, or not, he doesn't stop doing it even though he's being watched.

Erwin enters the room and closes the door.

"Are you okay?" he asks quietly.

Levi cowers more into himself. Clearly, under the blanket, he's hugging his legs. He rocks forward, backward, he does it violently and drowns out the melody by pressing his face to his knees. 

The melody speeds up, Levi hums it in a hoarse, shattered voice, until it stops when he chokes on a sob.

It's the most beautiful, but saddest, image Erwin remembers seeing in a long time. 

He doesn’t hesitate, he can’t when he’s feeling the image squeezing his heart: he walks towards Levi, holds him by the shoulders, pulls him towards himself, embraces him with all his strength.

"You're cold…" he says.

"Go away," Levi answers.

"Levi, you're literally freezing, as if no blood were flowing through your veins. Come, this room is too cold, you could get sick. Tomorrow I’ll ask Hanji to get a stove for you."

He pulls him; Levi resists, but Erwin doesn't give up.

He can't leave him like this. 

Not to him.

"Come on, let's go to my office. I promise to let you go as soon as you can warm up in front of the fireplace and not ask any questions."

Only then does Levi give in, and he does so absolutely, abruptly. It's as if all the violence that has shaped him is drained from him. As if he's given up.

But he doesn't.

Levi hasn’t given up because of sadness; he has given up because of the heat, this one that Erwin, holding him tightly, hopes to transmit enough.

.

.

.

This one that Levi, with no more strength to fight against this man called Erwin Smith, has no choice but to accept.

Because they're gone. His mother, Farlan, Isabel.

But he has his comrades of the Survey Corps.

But he has the man who allows him to move forward with dignity, looking ahead, not into the cold of that bed tattooed forever on his pupils. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Thank you so much for reading and kudos and sharing and everything. Thank you for being on the other side with me & them.
> 
> It makes me happier than I would be able to explain. Thank you. 💗
> 
> These final notes (which I promise not to lengthen too often) have a lot of meaningless chatter. The information is not relevant, excuse my over-enthusiasm.
> 
> Today, in useless information (?): 
> 
> ~ The song that Levi hums exists (?) and it's this one: https://youtu.be/3W_K5lj12o8 
> 
> It's Dollhouse's intro, a Joss Whedon series that, unfortunately, was not successful. It got cancelled really fast, mishandled because of the channel and its restrictions, but the original premise about identity and so on was very interesting. 
> 
> I love that intro, I love it a lot. It's a fragment of one of my favorite songs on earth, "What you don't know" by Jonatha Brooke. Some fragments of the lyrics of the full version, if I have to relate them to SNK, make me think of Kuchel. So, the sadness that the song transmits to me mixed with that tremendous tenderness that it has is what made me imagine Kuchel humming that to little Levi. 
> 
> I have no one to tell this to, so I throw it here (?). 
> 
> ~ About Levi and the guilt regarding Kuchel's death and his obsession with cleanliness: Canon doesn't talk much about the subject, not as much as I would like, and because I'm a HUGE FAN of the Ackerman Clan, I thought of including some hc in this fic, with the idea of go deeper into that mysterious mind of SNK throughout the fic. Levi is an exciting character; I want to take advantage of this fic to explore his past in depth. 
> 
> And for Erwin to explore him in another way (?). Hahahaha
> 
> ~ About the stove Erwin mentions at the end: according to my research (?), there were some small stoves in the 19th century, so I take it for granted that it's not unreasonable to think of them in the SNK universe (?!). 
> 
> Thank you for being nice to me and for visiting this fic. ❤️
> 
> And the 100 kudos! OMG! THANK YOUUUU~ ♥


	10. X

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is longer than the previous ones. I apologize for any inconvenience this may cause in your reading. And also forgive me for all the mistakes. My English it's not the best but I hope to keep learning! ♥

**X**

  
  


He sees him before the fireplace, sitting on the floor and wrapped in the blanket he has brought with him; he sees him as he was looking at the most unreal thing, the most beautiful, like a ghost made of light, but no.

Levi is real.

He wanted to give him a chair, but Levi, without saying a word, threw himself on the floor. He has stopped shaking, also humming, but taking into account how he’s holding on to the blanket he still seems to be freezing. Behind him, Erwin holds a package in his hand. He also brought a blanket from his room, with which he covered his shoulders.

He leaves the package on his desk but holds the wine and two glasses which are more appropriate for whiskey, but which are useful in this improvised situation.

He sits to his left, almost two feet from Levi, and gives him a glass.

"You said you'd let me invite you to a drink."

Levi looks at him sideways.

"I see you also use anything as a wineglass."

Erwin smiles. Something in Levi's response fills him with confidence. It's like he’s letting him know he's welcome.

In Levi's way, which is not an easy one, but it's a way at last.

"I cleaned them very well," Erwin says in the nicest tone he has, the one he never pretends before those he admires, for it comes from the most honest naturalness. "They are my glasses, not the kitchen's."

"I know, I cleaned them myself for months."

It's true. Levi has been cleaning his office for months, since that fateful mission in June, the one in which his friends died; he has been cleaning the place where Erwin has hidden these glasses, this wine, a bottle of whiskey, some other things for stressful moments.

Levi accepts. When he finishes serving, Erwin puts the bottle aside.

"To hope," he says as he raises his glass before the fire.

"Whatever," Levi answers.

They drink in silence. The only thing they can hear, apart from the murmurs coming from the party two floors down, is the fire crackling; the office is dark, with no more light than the one that the fireplace gives.

Erwin listens to how Levi swallows the wine; the sound is of a hypnotic delicacy.

"What expensive, fine shit you drink behind everyone's back," Levi says. "At least you have good taste; that Moblit drinks even the bathwater."

Erwin laughs as he looks at the wine in his glass.

"Sometimes you have to allow yourself some satisfaction," he replies.

The ones he won't be able to give himself when he becomes the commander.

Tired of that thought, Erwin thinks about what to say, whether talking is necessary at this moment. He notices the seriousness with which Levi looks at the fire, his cheeks at last blushing with heat. He understands that tonight they need only this.

Silence.

Adapting to a situation means understanding when to talk and when not to talk. Erwin can talk to people, even though Levi makes him clumsy, slow. But Erwin knows.

He has to keep his promise: he won't ask him anything. Because trust is impossible if there is no respect; because respect is the beginning of any healthy relationship.

Although this relationship will never have the nuance that Erwin would like to confer on it.

"Thank you," Levi says as he finishes his wine.

Erwin, thinking he's talking about wine (something else seems impossible in this context), lifts the bottle.

"Don't worry, I like to share these things. Do you want more?"

"I’d like to accept more wine, but that's not what I meant."

Erwin holds his hand back when he hears him; Levi is looking him in the eye, he does it, and what a stare. The moment is short, he doesn't read enough in the silver eyes, but he perceives something subtle, soft, but tangible.

Levi is honest.

He's thanking him not for the wine, as seemed obvious, but for this shared moment.

For ripping him out of that cold.

Moved by how much that gratitude means to him, Erwin smiles and keeps looking at him, right after serving him more.

"Don't thank me. You can count on me."

Despite the gratitude, it still doesn't seem wise to say something that would invite Levi to speak, to explain why he sang that melody, to tell him why he hugged his legs like that, to admit why he walked away from everyone to spend this important day, his own, that of his birth and that of hope, confined in a cold dark room.

"I always keep my distance from people, but that shit it’s useless."

Levi is so convincing that Erwin it’s not capable to understand the situation quickly. When he does, he feels his eyebrows rise in awe.

He's trusting him.

"But why do you want to keep your distance?" Erwin asks after a drink. He intends to remain calm, he does, and he’s happy to perceive that his tone expresses nothing more than that, calm, goodness.

Empathy.

Levi takes another drink before he responds, his silver eyes looking orange thanks to the fire they stare at.

"Feelings make us weak, they fill us with a clumsiness that we shouldn't allow in a place like the Underground, where everyone wants to eat your shit, or here, where titans want to eat even more."

Levi doesn't talk this much usually, or so Erwin thinks, but here he is. A responsible person with clear ideas and objectives who understands the context and its priorities.

All that Erwin, enthralled by the wings of this invincible soldier, can’t be as a future commander.

"I disagreed," he says, though.

Levi looks at him. He doesn't look like he always does, covered by a block of ice; curiously, something seems different this time.

"I'd tell you something like _what the fuck do you know about that,_ but I don't know enough about you," Levi says as he looks at the fire one more time. "I lost everything I cared about and it was my fault, but maybe it happened to you too, and telling you something like that would make me stupid."

Then it's like a door opens.

Levi isn't just trusting him; he seems to be inviting him to ask questions, too.

He even seems to invite him to trust him.

Erwin takes one more drink; Levi's words have made him tense enough to question whether crossing this doorway is wise, or necessary, or whatever. In all these years in the Survey Corps, he has never spoken about this out loud, he has never felt the need to say his truth, to express it to make himself understood, to get something off his chest, to undress his feelings.

Now, in this exchange that Levi seems to enable him, it seems so easy, so necessary.

So natural, damn.

But first things first:

"I already told you about your friends, Levi: it wasn't your fault. I know it's hard to accept something like this here, the place where so many deaths occur on every expedition, but…"

Levi clicks his tongue.

"It's not about them."

Then who?

Erwin wants to ask; the door is still open. However, it’s not wise to do so, not considering the promise he made to him, to make no questions, to let him enjoy the fireplace and nothing else.

But the door, but the other side of the door…

Feeling his heart wrenching and a lump in his throat at the mere thought of it, he lets naturalness express itself through him.

There is no point in repressing what he needs so much now; after so many weeks of anguish and painkillers, he no longer has the strength to do so.

He can't keep quiet at this door, not if it's Levi on the other side.

He can't keep quiet, no, not if giving this story to Levi means that Levi, for trusting him, will give him the same in return.

"About what you said before, about whether I went through something like this," he whispers. Something in the other person’s identity feels perfect; Levi is the only one to whom he wants to give this secret. "When I was a child, my father died because of me, because he had the misfortune to raise a son who wasn't as smart as he was, who behaved like a stupid."

He breathes hard after saying it; relief it fills him up. And pain, and regret, and guilt, but also a relief.

As if these last few weeks, after that attack in this very office, he needed nothing more than this, to say precisely this to this person in particular.

As if he wanted nothing more than to trust Levi, to give him this little humanity he has left in his hands.

Levi's eyes open wide before the fire; their glow expands; it blinds by its power. It's touching.

It's real.

Levi is real and Erwin can barely handle it.

"This is a meeting for adults with unresolved childhood issues?"

Erwin can't help but release a soft, almost embarrassing laugh. It's as if his chest is raised by the feelings it contains; as if it’s inflated by the pain, the relief, the mere emotion of being so transparent.

With Levi, with him and no one else.

"Maybe," he replies. He doesn't plan to sound so warm, so kind in saying it; it comes out naturally, just as the rest has come out.

The reward is extreme: Levi, with his eyes in flames as the fireplace he watches, smiles sweetly, something unnatural on that face that is always so bitter, so cold, so unbreakable. One second later, seriousness returns, but the eyes no longer freeze.

Or they do, but Erwin already knows how to read them.

He knows, finally.

"When I was a brat, my mother died because of me, because she had the misfortune of having a son who couldn't keep her safe from the shitty circumstances in which they lived, one who couldn't be useful."

Levi frowns; something in his countenance seems detached, but no: the eyes, though stoic, express nothing but pain. And what a fool Erwin has been until this moment, that he has never seen what is so obvious right now!

Levi's eyes are ambiguous, not unbreakable; it's about noticing duality, about reading in-depth, not about holding on to the first thing that glimmers in the pupils.

Levi's truth impacts Erwin with the power of a blade on the back of a neck; it pushes him into a sensitivity he has never mastered, which calls for anguish, the one that knows how to choke him with phantasmagoric hands.

The same damn story.

The same one.

Everything related to Levi becomes easy. Erwin realizes, in a way that overwhelms him with sensitive information, that this explains a lot. How reserved he is, how much he seems to avoid people despite his purely compassionate nature, which he showed so well at the previous meeting. Levi keeps his distance to protect himself.

Just as Erwin clings to a promise made before a grave, to a truth he owes to the one he killed more directly than indirectly through his stupidity, Levi clings to loneliness.

"What's next? Do we hold hands and say _I feel_ _you_?" Levi asks, leaving the empty glass in front of him.

Erwin imitates him: he moves the glass away, also the bottle, and holds one of his knees with his hands. Before the fire and with his eyes glued to Levi, he understands.

Levi's innate compassion doesn't deserve this treatment. He doesn't deserve it, nothing in Levi deserves loneliness like that of the room where he found him, singing a childish melody, perhaps one that his mother sang to him, endowing it with an implacable, dangerous sadness.

Perhaps his obsession with cleanliness and his apparent aversion towards sex are also related to his past, with that guilt he feels for not having been useful to his mother, for the reasons…

He blinks repeatedly at the image of Levi in front of the fireplace.

No.

It's not just the same story.

It's the same guilt, the same one, causing different but equally painful effects on both. In Levi, a need for seclusion.

In Erwin, a need to kill his emotions to be the commander this corps needs. The necessity the context has against his own heart, which, overflowing with guilt while imploring some kind of hope, refuses to stop feeling.

Unable to reason for a single moment because of the anguish that chokes him, because of the necessity to express himself that pushes him, because of the emotion that crushes him, Erwin stretches out his hand until he touches Levi's shoulder with it. He does, and Levi turns his face towards him.

"I feel you," Erwin whispers, and the door expands, its edges blurred.

There's no turning back, not when the guilt is this one.

Not when it's the same in both.

.

.

.

There's no desire in his eyes, Erwin Smith doesn't look at him like a pig looks at the prostitute he just paid for.

He looks at him with empathy, the clearest empathy Levi has seen in years.

In years, damn it, since that time, that person, that room in which violence will never exist.

He contains the need to let go, looking at the huge hand that covers one of his shoulders, which transmits a heat even more powerful than that of the fireplace. He narrows his eyes.

How obvious.

The realization of why he's feeling like this today, why he's unable to stop the anguish that the cold generates in him, plunges Levi into supreme discomfort.

But it's late.

"I feel you, Levi," Erwin repeats, visibly moved; his words only confirm Levi's suspicions; that is the reason why. "I feel you, and I wish there was something I could do to help you so you don't feel that guilt. Someone like you doesn't deserve to be burdened with so much…"

He's distraught because only today, on his first birthday out of the Underground, he realizes that he's lonely, and he misses his mother, and he misses Farlan and Isabel. Even Kenny. As much as he hates to admit it, yes, he does.

He's lonely, he _sees_ the surrounding loneliness, he feels it touching him, making him dirty, and that's the reason for the shit that's been stalking him all fucking day.

It's the loneliness, but also the instinct that leads him to cancel it out.

This hand, this guy.

This heat.

"Don't bother me, I don't want you to care about…"

"I care about you, Levi, of course. First, we're partners. If this nut house, as you called it that time, is the hell in which we chose to fight, it's natural to care about each other." The hand squeezes his shoulder. The blue eyes shine brighter than the sky, its neatness dazzling him. "You can trust me."

No, he can't.

As much as he wants to trust Erwin Smith, as much as he sees in him the person for whom he yearns to be transparent, for whom he has the absurd instinct to care, to protect, to accompany to win, no, he can't.

This mistake can’t happen, not in this context that only requires violence. He can't do it, not now.

No!

Levi tries to get up; he doesn't make it. Weak under the hand that holds his shoulder, so huge, heavy, warm, he has no way to free himself.

It's late, yeah: although he has tried to have no feelings and not to become attached to anyone, he does it.

To his fellow members of the Survey Corps, all joined under the same cause, fighting in every expedition to open the eyes of humanity confined behind the walls.

To Erwin Smith, above all, the man he chose to follow to the death.

"You don't have to help me. You’re The Great Lunatic here, blondie; it’s you the one we must help," Levi says in a whisper that disgusts him when he hears it come out of his mouth. How sentimental it sounds, how unacceptable. "I’m here to help you find the bloody truth. I’m not here to be comforted as if I were a weak and useless little brat. Don't tell me I'm still like that, don't treat me like I'm still that brat. I won't let you."

Erwin's hand squeezes his shoulder even more; in contrast to the warmth it transmits, Levi feels a cold that carries him in time, that takes him far away, that transforms him.

That it throws him further into the loneliness he can no longer bear.

But no.

Within him, things are clear: he no longer has a past, there is nowhere to look. Behind him, there is nothing anymore, only corpses that he no longer wants to embrace during the nights, when by hugging them he loses all need for rest.

All that remains is the present, now, and the possibility of a future that can be better than what they know. Only Erwin Smith remains, this man who in front of the fire looks like a damned god, full of values, of talent, a gentleman and an exemplary soldier whose eyes are the only ones capable of looking beyond, so clean, so…

Clean…

Levi inhales as deeply as he can, but he doesn’t exhale; he can’t. For a significant second, he realizes that he just can't.

It's late, damn it. It is: he wants to fight alongside this man, he wants to be his weapon, to be his comrade, to be a shoulder he can always lean on, one that Erwin Smith can trust to keep going even when he needs to fall in the most humiliating way. Because Levi wants to see the truth that Erwin sees.

He wants to see it _with_ him.

Something inside him is relieved by the idea. He doesn't understand what it is, but the relief is monumental.

But it bothers him to feel weak because of the sensations that are intermingled with that idea, he finds out.

Because Erwin Smith is a gentleman, and he's clean as a damn god, and it's an excess of virtues that Levi has no way to ignore.

No, he can't.

Erwin himself, just by being him, shows it by answering him:

"We're not those kids anymore. Remember what I told you before? This is what I disagree with: feeling won’t make you weak, ever. What struggle can you carry out, what cause can you defend if you feel nothing? It's about not forgetting that you are part of the humanity we're fighting for."

Levi shakes his head in denial. No, he can't.

No!

"If we want to win this war, to get lost in those emotions is useless, old man; my strength won't have been worth a damn. How can you not understand that? It's too obvious," Levi whispers, choking on the air that he’s unable to exhale.

"It's part of the price to pay: fighting out there is an exchange, we give our hearts for the truth. What do you think it means? In my opinion, and I thank you for helping me to understand it at this very moment, it's about…" Erwin smiles at him, and his eyes shine, and their glow is like a candle lit in the center of his brain, a candle that radiates too much light, that burns, that moves. "Levi, it's about sacrificing everything that matters to us, using our feelings as fuel to build up our strength, because a person who is not willing to make great sacrifices…"

"Will get nothing," Levi replies as he’s consumed by the light that shines out of those blue eyes.

This is the truth; this is what's beyond.

Refusing to get involved with his partners is a mistake.

If he wants to be stronger, he needs to keep his heart full.

Otherwise, he will achieve nothing.

If he feels nothing, he will never help Erwin discover the truth hidden behind the walls, because if he doesn't remember his humanity, he won't be able to fight for others!

It's the price to pay, yes, and how willing he is to do it.

If the reward is to avoid hell, if it means no more women ending up like her or children ending up as fucked up as him, if the truth means…

If the person next to him is…

Erwin's hand caresses his shoulder. It's impossible to run away from the caress; it's honest.

It’s the one allowed in this context.

It’s the other price to pay, Levi's inability to not to feel this attachment to Erwin beyond the struggle, the sacrifice, the cause.

But…

"Don't try to avoid developing a bond with your comrades, Levi; don't condemn yourself to be lonely. You won't solve anything by feeling vulnerable in a cold room, unable to turn to others. It's difficult, to accept so many deaths it is, but they prevail in us; that's what it's all about."

Levi feels that the candle inside his brain burns everything around him; at the same time, he feels how the most lacerating cold freezes the skin that is not covered by the hand. Erwin’s image makes him dizzy, numbs him, cancels him out, and it’s not because of this conviction that fills him, that that makes him understand perfectly the absolute meaning of the sacrifice he needs to make to fight.

It's what has grown up with that conviction.

The attachment traced in his heart with another kind of ink, with other colors.

It's…

Another caress on his shoulder; Levi shivers under Erwin’s hand.

It's late, yes. It's too late.

"Don’t give up," Erwin continues, whose voice is pure calm, whose eyes convey only truth, honesty, trust, wisdom; it’s disgusting. It’s unbearable because all that it conveys it’s too beautiful despite the cold that is freezing his skin. "Don’t let guilt cloud your judgment. You are intelligent, you are compassionate, you are courageous; those values are fundamental here, and you have them, and you can do a lot having them, and you do it with how much you help your comrades by inspiring them to be stronger. The rest is inevitable: many of us will die, we will have to let many comrades go, but their deaths will only do one thing.”

Levi rests a palm on the floor, next to his hip, to support the weight of the hand and the words, of the meaning of every concept that his future commander shows him, feeling an increasing flow of power within his body, the feeling of knowing exactly what he has to do in the face of any kind of adversity. That is what it means to believe in Erwin Smith, in him and no one else.

Inspiration.

"They'll give us more strength," Levi reasons, and Erwin nods.

"Each death will strengthen us; I promise. We'll do great things together, Levi. When I become a commander, you’ll be our strongest soldier, our example and our inspiration."

Levi inhales with difficulty, he does it through his mouth; because of how closed and scratchy his throat feels, his breathing seems to be mixed with a kind of sobbing. That is how transcendental the weight of Erwin's words is, this wonderful bastard, this one who smiles, who is brighter than the sun.

He's accepting him as the one who longs to fight alongside him. He accepts his strength as the one he wants to fight.

But he also accepts him beyond that.

If he didn't, this hand wouldn't be stroking him this way.

"That's why Levi…" Erwin leaves him and the blanket when he gets up. He goes to his desk and holds a green package. He sits down again, facing him and not the fireplace, and gives it to him. "Don't let go of your strength by believing it to be your weakness. You're wrong: locking yourself up makes you weak."

Overloaded with emotions he doesn't understand, Levi gets the package. What the fuck is this? He tries asking Erwin, but the words don't come out of his mouth.

Though his eyes say enough because Erwin smiles at him with a charm that knocks out every damn possibility to reason in his brain.

"It's my invitation to you not to feel weak, to tell you that you don't have to be lonely, not when we are here, on equal terms," Erwin tells him as he holds his right hand, the one with which Levi, in turn, holds the package. "Happy birthday…" he whispers as he gives him more than the package for the simple fact of painting the sweetest caress on his skin, one capable of too many things.

Of cleaning him up.

Of purifying him.

_"Happy birthday, sweetie!"_

Of purifying him, yes, and of erasing the violence of the world, and to transform this simple office into that old room that went from being everything to being nothing, that went from enclosing everything good and right to enclosing death.

His mother, trapped forever in a dream from which he could never wake her up.

Erwin's hand, shy in caressing him, dares to more when his silence seems to show a welcome; his heart, so dirty from that day on, is tinged with a color so bright, so clear and beautiful, that its very existence seems a lie to him.

…And it is, he finds out.

Because it's late, that's why.

Because even if Erwin Smith caresses him like a rose petal, a piece of silk, a white feather and not who he is, it’s too late.

Because violence exists.

Because his head is fucked up for life.

Then everything around him goes out, gets consumed. There is any point in denying everything that surrounds him, even if this caress erases it with astonishing simplicity.

.

.

.

The eyes narrow, the wrinkles around the dark circles under the eyes are pronounced, the darkness that the drooping bangs provoke on the eyelids enhances the palpable, extreme frustration of the person who he’s looking at.

Erwin holds Levi by the shoulders not for desire, not for love; he does it unconsciously, for the instinct that asks him to protect him. He draws Levi towards him, hugs him just like he did in his room.

He's shaking. Levi's body, cold, shivers as if he were naked under the snow.

"Are you okay?"

He doesn't get any answers.

Holding him in his arms, Erwin fully notices how small Levi's body is, how delicate it seems despite the overwhelming power it carries. What a huge contradiction.

It's a perfect balance.

He takes his right hand from Levi's shoulder to the hand with which he stills holds the package he has given him, just as at the beginning. Levi shivers in response to that, trembles as if the snow were not only surrounding him but crushing him, burying him.

Desperate, Erwin caresses the hand, strokes it like a petal, a piece of silk, a feather; he caresses it to transmit warmth.

"No," Levi finally replies.

Erwin stops the caress. He does it by letting go completely, embarrassed by the limit he has just passed. Keeping a distance as he did in the beginning, he looks at him and looks at him, and this Levi’s image, looking at the package in complete silence, with a piercing pain screaming in his orange eyes, becomes, for Erwin, his favorite one. How much he would like to know how to draw, to have Moblit's talent to do it, to encapsulate this moment in space-time, the inconceivable beauty despite the pain.

The very essence of what Levi is.

The wings of freedom, ready to fight despite the adversity that dominates so many lives inside the walls.

Levi pushes the unopened package towards Erwin. Without saying a word, he stands up holding the blanket that continues over his shoulders. In a sepulchral silence, the silver eyes, no longer orange, observe him. As if he were a drawing. The whole image is frozen at that very moment.

The image gets destroyed when Levi finally turns his back on him as he walks towards the door.

"I don't want you to worry about me. I told you: I won’t let you do that, Erwin."

 _Erwin_.

Not _old man_ , not _blondie,_ not _Erwin Smith_ ; _Erwin_.

It's the first time he's called him by his name, and because it's Levi who does it, this sounds so special, so human.

Levi reaches for the door and turns again, looks him in the eye from the darkness. Erwin knows he's leaving and there's no point in stopping him, that the best thing he can do for him is to respect him.

"I didn’t mean to offend you or invade you or show any concern that might make you uncomfortable," he says, however, "all I wanted was…" He looks down; the intensity of Levi's eyes is intolerable even for him, someone used to look at the worst men, those who have power and influence in Mitras, more interested in money than in the well-being of the population. "Well, I just wanted to express my sincere friendship." He holds the package, opens it and shows Levi what it has: black tea brought from Orvud, one of the finest and most exclusive inside the walls. "I’d tell you that you could leave it here if you wanted, for us to take it at the time you prefer."

Levi's back hits the door. He’s looking at him with an even more piercing stare than before. Worried about his reaction, Erwin puts the package aside.

"Don't look at me like that," Levi says.

Fearing that he has conferred at least a hint of lust upon his gaze when his intentions are far off at this moment, Erwin inquires as he stands up:

"How?"

Levi's gaze relaxes; the pain is still there, more readable than ever.

"Like a piece of shit that you value too much." Levi arranges the blanket around his shoulders; underneath it, his body looks as small as when Erwin hugged him. "You shouldn't give me any kind of value, not here."

That's enough.

Although he should give up, perhaps, and listen to him, and forget how special he feels him, and concentrate on learning to be a commander, he knows he can't.

He’s fond of him.

Hanji, Mike, even Nile, and the commander. He’s fond of them, he’s fond of the Survey Corps itself, and he understands all that Levi has said about keeping distance, but he also understands that it doesn't work that way, that it's not that easy, that staying isolated from everything and everyone doesn't work.

How can he not love his comrades, those who give everything and fill people with hope, especially himself?

Is it not the prohibition of these merely human feelings that have reactivated his attacks, among other things?

Because that's the point: both are making the same mistake. Levi for the death of his friends, Erwin for all the pressure he's putting on his shoulders.

It's the same mistake: dehumanizing themselves.

It's the right thing to do to be a good commander, too. But it’s not.

He looks at Levi.

He looks at his tremor.

He doesn't want to give up!

"We can't control how others feel about us. It's late, it's part of what it means to be in this corps leaving everything behind when we go to fight out there: affection doesn't have to cloud our judgment. Prudence is a virtue in this context, and I know that you’ll know how to handle it," Erwin says as best he can, without denoting how much anguish is choking him.

Levi raises an eyebrow without taking his eyes off him for a moment.

"Farlan and Isabel died, you asshole."

Erwin, desperate, walks towards Levi in a hurry.

He's not going to give up!

"Sam died too," he says as he stops inches away from him, who still has his back against the door, "and it wasn't your fault, and it wasn't my fault. Feeling guilty for having made mistakes that only experience teaches us to correct, as is the case here, leaves us nothing in return, only guilt, one that, from what you told me, we have been dragging along for a long time. Why add weight to us like this? It's enough with all we've been through."

Levi's eyes open wide; his eyebrows, always furrowed, rise. This face doesn’t know how to smile, nor laugh, nor get excited; it only knows how to show the pain that years and circumstances have perpetuated. That's why Levi looks so worn out, so tired, with a mask of stoicism welded to his wounded skin; it's because of everything he's had to live through, that has kept him from learning the basics.

To feel love and happiness around him.

To accept them.

Levi's eyes open even wider; his body trembles more and more; the cold seems to cover him once more. But Levi drops the blanket, maybe on purpose, maybe by accident, but he drops it, and he looks at him, and he doesn't blink when he does it.

In the pain that his pupils scream, Erwin swears he’s seeing something else for the first time.

.

.

.

It's the need to purify himself, to cover this room with new curtains, to avoid the cold that comes out of his pores, the cold that he produces when he remembers death.

It's the inability to resist. He can't and he won't do it anymore.

Because he doesn’t know how to.

Because he has just decided that he no longer wants to do it, that he no longer wants to resist, not before the man whom he will follow until death and even beyond. Because he chose to follow him.

Because he'd rather regret giving up than resisting.

.

.

.

Levi spreads his arms out, always against the door. He looks at him with fury, passion, incomprehension, from a land where only ignorance reigns.

Looking at him too, listening to how Levi's breathing speeds up as his own does, Erwin understands what is happening.

Levi can't smile, or laugh, or be loved, or be happy.

Nor can he express what is faintly coloring his eyes right now, as he watches him with his back against the door, immersed in the darkest part of the office.

To do what the lust he feels implores him to do.

Erwin feels his body paralyzed. He's not used to this kind of look laying on him; it's been a long time. But the biggest problem is another: this is Levi, possibly the person who has attracted him the most. Or so he realizes now, by listening to the breaths, by the natural attraction of their bodies, by perceiving how the air around them gets warmer despite the cold of winter.

He gets closer in slow motion, unbelieving. He holds Levi's cheeks and opens his mouth in surprise: how unbearably soft his skin is, how cold it covers him, how it contrasts the cold with the heat that Levi's eyes spit out perhaps without knowing it.

Levi winces when Erwin strokes him with his thumbs slowly, more devoted to the one he's caressing than desperate to touch him, to devour him.

Erwin approaches, and what a lovely height difference he discovers between them when he notices how Levi struggles to look at him, how he twists his neck to do so.

"Levi, you…" Erwin whispers, speaking more with his breath than with his voice.

"Don't be a pig," Levi mumbles, shaking, angry, desperate.

What does he mean by that? Erwin has no idea; Levi's fine, aesthetic lips are parted before him, moist, as the arms are separated. As the body, shivering, is laying down against the door.

Because it's what Levi has done, surrender.

Because it's what Erwin needs to do.

Surrender, yes, not give up his humanity.

He leans towards him, kisses his parted lips, and the world disappears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally (?). Hahaha!
> 
> Hi! Thanks a lot for reading this far! I know this was long, but I didn't like the way the two chapters were cut, so I decided to leave them as one. 
> 
> From the bottom of my heart, I hope you like it. 💞
> 
> From now on, after their first physical contact, new things will happen. But I'm still interested in the same point before starting with the plot (because there is a plot, I swear XD): to imagine how their bond was built. I think there are many steps in its development, backwards and forwards, and it amuses me a lot to think about the different possibilities. I would like to write them all and write a Dollhouse AU (?), but unfortunately I don't have the time to do so. So I'm trying to write the version that convinces me the most. 
> 
> About the dialogue of the wine glass and the whisky glass, in Spanish it makes more sense because we use two different terms, 'copa' and 'vaso', and the dialogue was about that, about the word, not the function (?). I tried to adapt it as best as possible, sorry if it sounds a bit absurd in English. 
> 
> When a chapter demands a bit more than usual on an emotional level, like this one, it's very difficult to me to upload it. I feel like I'm naked before the universe (?). I try to overcome this embarrassment, but it's hard. Sorry if it's too emotional; everything in SNK and in them makes me very sensitive. About Eruri, I think that this trust had to be born from something very important, that's why I like the idea of linking it to their past, to those common points that I feel in their stories. 
> 
> Thank you very much for reading. Thank you for the company, because this fic is one of my favorite smiles, and sharing it with you gives me a lot of encouragement. It makes me feel good! Thank you for letting me do this.
> 
> A big kiss and thank you always. 
> 
> Спасибо! ❤️


	11. XI

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that I say this every single chapter, but please forgive all my English issues, please. I'm learning a lot and I hope to make good translations in the future! ♥

**XI**

Levi can't kiss either. He doesn’t understand how to do it. He stands still; he doesn't respond; he doesn't move; when he does, he just presses his lips against his, still shivering from the cold, from loneliness. Erwin hesitates for a moment. 

Should he stop or…?

Then, to his surprise, Levi only needs a second to melt in his arms, to kiss him with carelessness and savagery, something more related to the violence he always talks about, the one he always expresses outside the walls, than all the instincts he ignites inside Erwin: devotion, sweetness, affection, delicacy.

After the initial stillness, Levi kisses him as if it were the last thing he will do in life.

There is an urgency in him from that moment on, a longing that finds no explanation either in space or time; there is an explicit surrender coming from an astonishing naturalness. That's Levi when Erwin touches his lips; a force of nature. He has the power of the most aggressive storm, one capable of dragging him even beyond of what he understands as the outside. Something that leads him not only towards the truth but towards what is behind it, the true goal, the only one, the utopia which humanity seems to have no way of reaching.

Peace. 

Damn, how much exaggeration in the emotions that sprout from his chest like bullets shooting out from inside him. But Erwin can't believe it, he can't find the way. How does Levi become the only thing he knows in the world, the only thing he cares about, just by answering the kiss? Because it only takes him a second to turn the situation around, to turn him around, and turn him around, and to make him reconsider everything he knows. 

It's enough for Levi to close his eyes when he feels his lips on his, to close them and then respond with a notorious untidiness, with clumsy lips that first don't open enough and then open even too much, to lock him up in his hands.

Because that's what Levi does when he answers the kiss: he catches him. And how alarming it's to realize this, the power Levi has over him.

How easily Erwin becomes his possession.

Faced with the idea, a dangerous one in this context, Erwin tries to stop. A second goes by, no more, no less, in which he thinks about everything. 

_The future commander who can’t make the same mistake as the previous ones because humanity then can never free itself from the walls that keep it blind -_

The lips convince him quickly; they do so by sucking out his mouth with a voracious hunger; Erwin yields to desire as he returns the kiss with unusual passion. 

Holding him by the cheeks, trying hard to do it well, to not to be a pig if he understood well what Levi meant by that, Erwin imposes the slowness, the detail, the enjoyment over the mere relief of this lust that has grown at the same time in both, with the same vehemence. Levi's lips, between urged, confused and ignorant, between guttural sounds that both let out, calm down little by little, they follow his game, they adapt to the request, although the agitation doesn't abandon him. Soon, the kiss is of a remarkable perfection, lips caress lips as if they had been doing it for years, with passion, with warmth; it's a kiss that tastes like wine and pain, but justice above all.

They deserve it. Even if they carry so much guilt, even if they can never amend their mistakes.

Fuck, they deserve it. 

While this is surely wrong, while it's obvious that it's a mistake to give in to vulnerability in this context, the fact that both long for a different warmth is nothing more than a latent, real testimony of the humanity that survives despite their intentions. Because they've tried everything to dehumanize themselves.

This was the worst result possible.

The most beautiful.

Levi's arms surround his waist; Erwin's arms do the same around his neck. Against the door, they squeeze, they rub against each other denoting the same roughness that comes partly from their lack of experience, partly from their height difference, partly from being them in this context and not much else. Unbearable happiness fills Erwin between gasps he tries to swallow, one which comes from the incomprehension, from the gratitude he feels for having the joy of doing this, from the fear and also the lust. 

Because he remembers nothing and there's nothing he cares about. Because Levi is a storm, and he takes him away, and he drowns him in that abyss in which he let his heart fall.

Erwin goes deep into the other mouth, moves his tongue around Levi's, caresses everything he reaches; he mutes a groan, half pleasant and half painful, that Levi throws against his tongue when he twists his neck too much. Erwin tries to stop, to shorten the height difference, to make the kiss more comfortable; Levi doesn't let him and hangs on to his neck so he doesn't get away from him. He puts his torso against his. 

The heat rises, the arousal it’s a fact, and the bodies sway, disorderly, one against the other, bumping into the door and the other, one with bent knees, the other on tiptoes. The height difference is a real challenge, Erwin discovers when he feels a sharp pain in his neck.

And he adores it.

He sucks Levi's lower lip, caresses it subtly with the tip of his tongue and stops slowly enough, trying to convey a message that seems to arrive intact, as Levi doesn't stop him, not this time.

He looks at him, looks at how open and wild his silver eyes are, and contains the impulse to remove his clothes to kiss every corner of this soft skin he has, so sweet and so beautiful despite how many scars it carries and how much violence it contains.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?"

Laughs. Erwin bites his lip as he caresses their foreheads against each other, moving his face back and forth. 

He has never been so inspired by another body.

"My neck hurts."

"You're an old man."

"You're not that young either."

" _Tch_."

Without letting go of him, caressing his shoulders all the time, Erwin looks around: He has a tiny sofa in the right-hand corner of the office, upholstered with maroon velvet; it belonged to commander Shadis, but he gave it to him because he found it uncomfortable and ostentatious. It's not his style either, he's very sober, but nothing seems closer to what he needs right now.

Determined, he looks for the key to the door with his right hand; he locks the door, checks that it cannot be opened, and looks for the eyes of the one in front of him. Levi looks at the lock, agitated. Then he looks at him with a piercing stare that burns into Erwin's dilated pupils.

They leap on each other, again with bent knees and tiptoes, attempting to shorten the height difference. 

Yes, this is inspiration. 

Clumsily, Erwin leads Levi to the couch. They move forward without stopping kissing, without stopping holding each other's shoulders. They arrive, turn, fall, Erwin on the seat, Levi straddling him. 

Curiously enough, Levi is a lot heavier than he seems to be. 

How is that possible?

Seriously, they look at each other with the same stare as before. In Levi, the spark of lust is still there, deep down.

Subtle in appearance, fierce in reality.

"You shouldn't do this," he says to Erwin. 

This one smiles. 

"You mean _we shouldn't_."

"I have nothing to lose, I'm just another soldier, no one is in my care. You are a squad leader and a future commander."

Although he detects the harshness in Levi's voice, Erwin also swears to detect something that moves him especially, a kind of warning that expresses sincere concern. The thought makes him feel better.

Levi has peculiar but genuine ways of caring about people.

"There's no one here," he says, although playing stupid is not an art he masters in scenes like this.

"But if anyone hears us you could get into trouble that…"

Erwin wraps his arms around his waist, convinced of everything that is happening and of the person with whom it's happening, too inspired to resist. Shivering, Levi holds a gasp as he bites his lip, and rests his torso on his chest; the beats of each heart, exalted, rumble against the other. Erwin caresses his back with his fingers, right on his coat, partly incredulous, partly absorbed by the desire this body arouses in him as opposed to the devotion it also generates.

"Are you going to tell someone?" he wheezes against Levi's lips.

Their faces are so close that the only thing they can see of each other, under the light that comes faintly from the fireplace behind them, are their eyes: in the color of Levi's eyes, Erwin sees an object worthy of fervent fascination. 

.

.

.

Levi sees the sky, the pure sky that stretches above their heads outside the walls.

It's the same color.

It's freedom.

.

.

.

"I won’t say anything, I'm not as gossipy as you," Levi replies. As he talks, he seems surprised by something. Perhaps the source of his surprise is the agitation his voice exposes.

"Then no one will know," Erwin exclaims, his voice a barely audible murmur, his lips speaking over Levi's, caressing the mouth as he utters each syllable. "Besides, that thing about you being just another soldier…"

"What's up with that?" Levi asks.

His breath collides with the moisture that the kisses produced on Erwin's lips; what ecstasy before the sensations that Levi causes him with so little. 

How rude he is, how uninviting, how little effort he makes to seduce him; how much he succeeds. Levi's brutal honesty, the kind that prevents him from feigning any kind of inciting gesture, is the most seductive thing Erwin has ever seen.

The silky black fringe, softer than he might have been able to imagine, is disheveled; Erwin combs it with the fingers of his right hand and then slides them down to the back of his neck. He massages with his thumb, and Levi gives a jump which, between their legs, works as an involuntary confirmation by producing friction. They're both hard, one erection pressing against the other.

It's too explicit and he loves it because it feels as natural as the rest.

"Don't do that," Levi says.

"What do you mean?" Erwin asks as he strokes the back of the neck.

"Tha…" Another jump in response to the thumb massaging the back of his neck. Erwin can't hold a smile.

He's so sensitive.

What little experience he seems to have.

"You mean that?"

Levi's forehead rests on his. The eyes move from one side to the other, the necessary, it seems, to capture the totality of his gaze. Erwin raves for the devotion that Levi makes him feel.

When he gets no response, he resumes the previous talk while caressing the back of Levi’s neck, delighting in his slightest reactions:

"You'll be second in command of our squad on the next expedition. I suggested it to Shadis; he was fine with it."

Levi raises an eyebrow.

"We didn't even fuck and you're giving me a promotion?"

Erwin grinds his teeth to swallow the laughter that the question unleashes. 

"I was going to give it to you anyway. I hope you don’t think I'm that kind of man."

Levi's eyebrow raises a little more.

"No, never. I mean, look at you: you're so cheesy, you kiss like an old romantic. I don't see a pig fucking his comrades for promotions."

Erwin leans back for a laugh as Levi looks at him with that indifference he usually uses with everyone else. 

"You found me out."

"You don't even make good jokes…"

Levi exerts more strength on his shoulders; Erwin moves closer, brushes his mouth, inhales and exhales on it. 

"It's because of your talent and because I need to teach you about teamwork; you still have a lot to learn about it, but I know you can," he explains as he resumes the strokes on the back of his neck. "Afterwards, you'll be a squad leader. And then…"

"Will you make me the fucking commander? What the fuck is next?"

Too fascinated to restrain himself, Erwin lowers his hands and pushes them up Levi's thighs with moderate pressure. Levi winces when a fine, sharp sigh escapes from his mouth.

His sensitivity is addictive.

"I have a lot of ideas, but you'll have to help me with that. I already told you: we'll do a lot of things here, important things. We’ll revolutionize this place, Levi: your strength and Hanji's intelligence will allow us to advance and reach limits that wouldn't have been possible to consider before."

.

.

.

And how crazy that Erwin Smith doesn't mention himself, that he doesn't take himself into account when he talks about the Survey Corps, that he underestimates himself in such an absurd way.

As if he and Hanji could revolutionize this place without him, without his guidance, without his vision.

So…

.

.

.

Levi's answer differs from the previous ones: he looks at him, nothing else. His eyebrows fall off when he frowns, though.

"I should get out of here."

What?

Erwin leaves his hands on his waist. Levi tries, or so it seems, not to give in, to remain unperturbed.

"What do you mean?"

"You have great ambitions. You have other big things too, but this is not the time to talk about that." Erwin laughs, embarrassed, but nothing more than smiling like an idiot he can do at the subtle smile that twists Levi's lips right in front of him. "I understand all that stuff you said about feeling and being strong and all that cheap idealism, but I refuse to be a distraction: we're doing something important here, we're not playing games. We're not teenagers to be making out behind everyone’s backs; it's stupid."

Erwin frowns, he does it not without some frustration. 

Levi is right.

But no. He's not, and understanding that led him to kiss him in the first place, he remembers.

"I would be lying to you if I said I didn't understand your point, that I don't have enough reasons to agree with you," he explains with the greatest respect that he’s capable of expressing. "But I'll be a commander soon, I'll have to bear a lot of weight…"

"I see…"

Levi's coldness freezes him up when it reaches him; he doesn't want to leave, nor does he want to let him go. He doesn't want to stop this scene, he has no way of doing so, and longing is what wins among his considerations.

That is why Erwin insists despite the coldness of the one who looks at him:

"I know I shouldn't allow myself something like this, that I don't have time, as I said in the bar, nor should I be distracted from my duties. But I like you, Levi." He kisses him for a moment without closing his eyes; Levi shivers with his pupils wide open, staring at him. "I like you, and I care about you, and I want to be there for you if you need me. I mean, it's not about me. I'm not doing this for me…"

"Then who?"

Erwin smiles, and massages the right side of Levi's waist with one hand, and feels him shaking, squirming on top of him.

He's terrified of the most intrusive thought. 

How will he live without this?

"For you," he says as he sighs over Levi's shoulder, who leans back slightly, perhaps needing to look at him with a different gaze. "I realize that tonight is difficult for you. You don't have to specify the details, it won't change anything: I'm not willing to leave you alone in your room with no one to talk to. What I'm trying to say is, if you need me, I'm here for you."

He relaxes his caresses, just moving a thumb up and down on one of Levi's shoulders, who’s frowning, his eyes covered by shadows. 

"What about tomorrow?"

Excellent question. Erwin doesn't need to think of the answer, just let it go:

"Trust me," Erwin asks; the intrusive thought tries to attack him, but fails, "I swear nothing will change. I won't treat you differently, I won't ask anything of you but your friendship, your camaraderie. It’s not about to ask something from you in return, as you might imagine: I won't do that, ever. I respect you, as I said, and I'll never stop doing it. But if it's you who needs me and if I can keep you company today to calm you down and ease your vulnerability, I'll do it."

"You'll join me in my fall."

How glad he is to notice that Levi remembers the proposal from the previous meeting. Erwin nods, convinced of what he has suggested, to help him. 

That he doesn't sink into the hell Erwin knows so well.

"It makes me uncomfortable, it sucks," Levi says, still on his lap, though he remains agitated. 

What does he mean? Why is he uncomfortable? Maybe it’s about they care about him. 

"You are not weaker for generating something in others, on the contrary: that speaks well of you," Erwin says without hesitation. 

One sigh; Levi's frown is turned upside down. It doesn't convey anger, disinterest, coldness, but rather exposes fascinatingly, by the expressive, how moved he is.

.

.

.

He misses three people, maybe four. He misses everything that he once recognized as close, probably because of bad mourning, his failure to deal properly with Farlan and Isabel's deaths.

He wants to be weak, that's the truth. He wants it, he needs to let himself be carried away by weakness and lose himself in the huge desire that this marvelous man produces inside of him, but he can't stand the mere idea of getting lost, of being weak, of…

But what if he doesn't?

Choose the option that causes the least amount of regrets, choose that option above all others: it's the mantra that guides his life. It's the only truth he knows, the one that marks his steps always obscured by sadness, poverty, losses. 

He mustn't end up in bed with Erwin Smith, either in bed or any place that can be used for sex. He doesn't want to if Erwin's approach is related to pity, to recognizing him as weak, to…

But it’s impossible: Erwin would never recognize something like that in him. Erwin always recognizes what Levi himself can't see in the mirror: his strength.

His talent to fight for something higher, bigger than their lives, bigger than the world they know.

Erwin doesn't do it out of pity; he does it because he's noble, and a good person, and he needs it too, but not only for that. 

Erwin Smith does it because he still sees a human where Levi, in front of the mirror, only sees a ghost fucked up for life.

Erwin sees beyond, always.

Even beyond him.

Doing the thing he'll least regret…

.

.

.

Erwin detects how the shaking of the body above him exacerbates; Levi, holding him by the shoulders, shivers as if the situation made him uncomfortable, as if the desire his eyes show had a sort of impediment to fly.

What is it?

Soon, the eyes relax, the shoulders drop, the hands assert their grip, squeezing more tightly. Levi stares at him again, and it's just like in the beginning: he doesn't know how to kiss, or love, or smile; he only knows how to fight. 

He only knows how to ask for things like this, in silence.

To ask…

"Just tell me," Erwin says, keeping to the most ceremonial calm he's able to master, "if I can do something for you, something that will make you feel better, I will. Just tell me what you want me to do."

Levi drops his face on his cheek. Out of the corner of his eye, Erwin studies his frown, the one that always gives clues that these silver eyes don't always allow to find inside of them.

"I just want to…"

"What, Levi?"

"Damn, Erwin Smith…" Levi holds his shirt collar, squeezes it, stretches it, looks into his eyes with a fierceness as lethal as it’s hypnotic. "Just…"

"Just…?"

.

.

.

_Moves the body, moves it over and over, moves it until he gets tired, until he loses his energy, until he loses his mind._

_But nothing changes, ever._

_Nothing wakes her up from the cold she's been in during the night._

.

.

.

"I want to stop thinking about _it_!" Levi mumbles as he squeezes his collar.

Erwin clenches his eyelids as he feels Levi's words sink into his heart. It's the same story, it's true.

Even if he doesn't know enough, he knows that it is, that it's the same one.

"I'll do everything I can to stop you from doing it."

Aroused judging by the hardness Erwin feels pressed against his, Levi breathes through his teeth, loud, fast. 

Noticing how only the clothes separate them from touching the other so explicitly, Erwin feels that he goes crazy in a way that, because of the impetuous, even scares him.

He wants to do it, yes.

He desires it, too. 

"You can't do that," Levi assures him. 

"I can try."

"This shit doesn't…" 

"Trust me…" Erwin whispers as he strokes his cheek with his nose, as he rubs his skin with his. Between them, the arousal is evident while their bodies shiver not because of cold, but heat. "I'll make you feel good, I promise…"

He will, yes. 

Even if it's a mistake, even if it's not wise, even if he knows nothing will bring Levi all the happiness he deserves. 

He will.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Thank you so much for reading. ♥
> 
> What will Erwin do? We'll find out in the next chapter. XD
> 
> (SPOILER) Don't expect something very sexy, because I don't think I'm very good at that sort of thing; do expect a little intimate event, we could say, that's going to change their relationship from this moment on. (END SPOILER) 
> 
> (?)
> 
> I want to thank very much those who always take a moment to leave a comment: It makes me happy to know what my fic generates in you, it moves me. Your comments encourage me, they allow me not to be sad about my writing, they keep me company... I thank you so much! And specially in this translation. This is really hard for me but it was the way that I found to practice my English. Thanks for helping me with that!
> 
> See you next time. Chapter XII will probably take a while. I have written (in Spanish) until chapter XXI; I'm not fast with uploads because the translations, sorry.
> 
> THANK YOU!


	12. XII

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I recommend you to quick re-reading the tags before to read this chapter. Thank you. ♥

**XII**

Everything happens fast, so fast that Erwin knows he'll regret it the next morning. Not what is happening, but the idea of not taking his time. Is what Levi deserves, after all, that Erwin takes his time, but something, when he kisses him, makes that impossible.

It's the desire, huge, unbearable, that he feels for this supernatural human being.

He tries to stay calm, to measure his caresses, to kiss him slowly, but Levi kisses him just like the first time. He kisses him as if the world would be devoured by a huge mouth in ten minutes, while, not without clumsiness, he rocks against his hip, causing friction between the two trapped erections, one against the other. As he feels Levi moving back and forth, Erwin experiences what, for him, always seems impossible. For years and years, the most impossible for someone like him.

His brain just shuts down.

He can't think, he doesn't reason, he doesn't understand what the world is, what the titans are, what the walls are, what the truth is. He becomes the hardness that thrusts the other one, urged, hot, desperate for heat, for maximizing it, for taking it to a limit that he doesn't understand, that he doesn't remember. 

Hell, he needs him. He needs Levi, to feel him, to take him, to let himself be taken by him. That's what it wants the tension that drives him crazy, that increases, that disrupts him.

He needs everything from Levi.

Everything.

He holds him by the buttocks and marks the rhythm he needs, slow, intense, one erection rubbing against the other above their clothes more abruptly than they should. 

They moan at the same time; they look at each other.

Is it fear what darkens Levi's eyes?

The fear he manages to capture almost revives his ability to reason, but it's Levi himself who silences everything once again, Levi kissing him with trembling, nervous lips, obeying Erwin's hips and hands.

"Don't be a pig," he begs him in between gasps, clenching his teeth too hard. He rocks again, and again, and again, and speaks with a louder voice than usual, a trickle of sweat running down his forehead. "Don't… Don't be a fucking pig."

What does that mean? What does everything around them mean? Erwin babbles an _I_ _won't_ that he doesn't understand, that he doesn't reason, just before taking Levi in his arms and lifting him from the couch, something as easy as lifting a feather even though Levi is heavier than he should be given his size. 

Levi seems to like this unexpected movement, as he wraps his legs around his hips and rocks, and rocks again, and gasps against his mouth with his wet, swollen lips. Hugging the base of his hip, Erwin rocks as well. With their faces almost at the same height, they look at each other as they grunt.

Until Levi closes his eyes, and presses his forehead against Erwin's nose, and clenches his teeth to contain a groan that seems to come not from his throat, but from the desire that so notoriously beats between his legs. Erwin looks at everything, every gesture, the violence with which he squeezes his eyes shut.

It's the most erotic image in history. 

But how will he make him feel good? What can he do, him, the person who least deserves something so beautiful, that is so defective, so insufficient, to make this wonderful being feel good?

Nervousness embraces him, but a kiss from Levi plunges him once again into the depths of the abyss.

He has to do what his instincts demand based on everything Levi expresses to him, nothing else. 

With that idea in mind, Erwin bends down, sits Levi in the middle of the couch and kneels between his legs. He lifts his shirt, adoring that Levi hasn't chosen to wear his uniform tonight, because that saves him from the drama of unbuttoning the leather straps, and marvels at the whiteness of his skin demarcating his muscles like a sculpture.

Levi, meanwhile, seems to be struggling to breathe. It’s as if he had been immersed in the deepest water and he had just remembered how to breathe after returning to the surface. 

And how bad he breathes.

And how bad Erwin breathes, too.

Erwin kisses the naked belly and bites his lip to bear the scent of the skin, something like honey, like what is beautiful and exquisite, mixed with essence as delicate as masculine; another wonderful contradiction of this supernatural human being. The skin is of an inconceivable softness under his restless, thirsty tongue.

And the sounds he makes. Oh. Some of them are deep and guttural; others are beautifully high-pitched, and all of them reach his ears transformed into a melody. Erwin breathes on the skin, warms it with his breath, makes it red with his lips.

It's too much. 

Unable to think, full of ideas thanks to the excessive inspiration he feels, he lets his instinct work: he undoes the belt buckle, unzips the trousers, pulls the clothes down to Levi's knees. He kisses without looking at him, lets his lips get lost on the erection.

He looks at it, and it's as if he looks at the sky outside the walls; how necessary to continue exaggerating like an idiot knowing that he doesn't. 

This body is so beautiful that, for a moment, Erwin just wants to cry.

He looks up: Levi is in shock. 

"It's just a dick. Don't look at it like it's something beautiful, you old perv," he says, holding his shirt against his chest. 

"It's beautiful, in fact," he replies to the image.

Standard size, surrounded by fine, short hair; as beautiful as all Levi is. 

"All dicks are ugly, deformed and dirty things. I don't know what the fuck you're talking about."

If he knew…

"But you’re so…"

"Stop that cheesy shit. Not now."

Erwin smiles. He kisses the tip of the cock, already moistened by the evident longing, and rubs the whole of its extension with his lips. He moistens it more, slowly, millimeter by millimeter, and Levi moans, and trembles.

Raptured by the beauty, Erwin sinks it inside his mouth. When he does so, reality splits; the only thing he can do, besides moving his head back and forth, taking it as far as possible, is to lose himself in the movement, in the hands that squeeze his hair, in the roars that Levi silences without success when he clenches his teeth. He’s like some kind of wild beast.

Wild and beautiful, all at once. 

Erwin moans as he rubs the tip against the inside of his right cheek, and then the left one, as he takes the head between his lips and delicately sucks the most sensitive skin. But the hands, unhinged, don’t seem to relax.

"F-Fuck," Levi says, his voice a whisper, hoarse from the lack of air. 

Erwin sinks it inside his mouth, again. He's fast, wild, just as Levi's hands ask; he's passionate, back, forth, getting lost, getting away from the world by sinking in pleasure a being like this, so damned unreal. It's too much, yes, it is when Levi stops roaring and starts moaning, when he seems to whimper as he moans, his voice a variety of intonations that defeats him as much as his beauty does.

In every sense, yes, Levi defeats him. 

"Shit!" he hears him curse; hands squeeze his shoulders with explicit cruelty, push him away, draw him again. "Fuck! No… That's not…! You don't have to…!"

Erwin sinks it inside his mouth for the last time just as Levi comes whining two tones above his usual voice. He swallows, as enraptured as at the beginning, and lets him go when Levi falls sideways onto the couch.

After that, nothing but silence.

Nothing, because everything is gone.

Erwin gets his breath back as he sits in front of Levi's legs, now closed. He sees him fighting pleasure by squirming on the couch. 

"Why did you swallow it?" he says almost voicelessly.

"Why not?" Erwin answers in the same state. 

"It's disgusting! I'll never kiss you again."

The very idea scares Erwin. Yet he laughs.

"Something tells me you've never done it and nobody never did it to you."

"What? A blowjob?" As he can, Levi sits down. He arranges his clothes with abrupt movements; something in his countenance looks exhausted, more than usual.

There's a gleam of lovely pleasure in his eyes, too. 

"No one's ever done that to you before? " Erwin asks as he stands up; it hurts him to be so aroused, but he won't ask Levi for help, not today.

Not even if he's dying, he won't betray his trust.

He sits next to Levi, though keeping a small distance, prudent enough under the circumstances.

It's incredible: to let him down, soon, it feels the worst betrayal.

Levi buckles up and combs his hair. His forehead is sweaty. 

Erwin, determined to respect him, crosses his legs enough not to show his persistent arousal.

"Never," Levi admits, "and if you want to make fun of me, don't waste your time, because I don't give a shit about…"

"There's nothing wrong with that, why should I make fun of it?" Erwin asks. He’s sincere in doing so, although he understands where the idea comes from. It's that concept so common among people that sexuality must begin at a certain age as if it were an obligation or it was written somewhere that it must be that way, that there is no right to wait or to never do it. 

When sexuality has more to do with this.

With trust, with inspiration.

"How did you know?" Levi asks, serious. "Do you know so much that you notice these things? I thought you didn't have time to fuck."

Laughing, Erwin responds without overanalyzing it:

"It doesn't take much experience to notice certain details. Also, about swallowing…"

"Yeah, don't tell me." 

They keep silent after a _disgusting_ that Levi says in a low voice pronounced below Erwin's soft laugh.

Something, despite the silence, feels comfortable. What is it?

"Sex disgusts me."

Unexpectedly, when Levi says it, Erwin understands more than Levi himself has planned to reveal to him, perhaps: something in those whimpers of pleasure, in the abruptness of his movements, in his inexperienced kisses, only showed that, a pleasure that contradicted everything else.

Perhaps…?

"The problem is you." They stare at each other for the first time since what happened, Levi's eyes serious, tired, but also moved.

Levi is not hiding anything from him anymore.

He lets him read everything.

"Why me?" Erwin encourages him to continue without giving away any kind of pressure on the tone.

"Because you don't disgust me."

What does that mean?

"Levi…" 

"I'm sorry to leave you with your thing that hard, but I'd rather go now, I think it's the best."

Erwin can't stop him. Levi gets up and approaches the door. He picks up the blanket, turns the key, opens, and leaves not without saying something else, the last thing:

"Thank you."

When the door closes, Erwin drops onto the back of the couch. 

_Thank you_ , he said…

He leaves his office, goes to a bathroom near his room, and under the hot water, the absence is unbearable. 

He touches himself, imagines Levi's fingers sunk in his flesh, and allows himself the release that, most of the time, he tries to avoid.

Because sex doesn't disgust him.

What it produces, like everything that he's capable of enjoying as the human that he must stop to be, is guilt. 

He leaves the shower, dries himself off, puts on some sleeping clothes. Shivering, after passing through his closet, he runs to Levi's room.

He knocks, and Levi, identical to how he was at the moment to leave his office, looks at him without understanding.

"I brought you extra blankets, so you won't be cold. I'll ask Hanji to get a stove; this room isn't heated enough."

Levi holds the blankets with a delicacy that doesn't fit him, nor the soldier that he is, nor the inexperienced lover that he is.

And everything, despite the contradictions, is harmoniously painted on his skin.

"Okay, Erwin," he says before closing the door.

This one stays in that place for several minutes. 

His name never sounded like that.

He asked him to trust him, promised him he would respect him, that everything would be the same.

But how, he wonders when all the intrusive thoughts attack him at once, ruthless, hungry.

Accomplices of anguish.

How to live normally with Levi after something like that?

.

.

.

With two extra blankets on his, all three stacked on his body as he lies stretched out on the bed, Levi is not able to think of anything or anyone.

Only of the one who has swept everything from his mind and heart.

It's almost dawn. He rolls over on the mattress, ready to sleep; the cold, with three blankets, is not so terrible in the room where he's alone because of his roommates’ absence. This heat around him gives him extraordinary relief.

But it's not about the blankets.

It's all about Erwin Smith.

He coughs one, two, three times. What the fuck? He turns around in a chill. Facedown, he gasps as he feels his erection grow against the mattress. How disgusting to turn on, he hates this, he detests it, but how inevitable it’s to squeeze a little more, to gasp again, to feel how it hardens. When he does so, all the cold leaves him in a second.

With Farlan, things had been different: he had no experience, Farlan had little, and only with women. Neither of them knew what the fuck they were doing; the only information they had was what Levi remembered from his days in the brothel, when he used to listen to how Lola talked to the younger women about the importance of lubrication, the use of certain kinds of oil, foreplay…

He gasps again as he thrust the mattress, between his teeth and full of self-hatred, turned on as he has ever been in his fucking life, reduced to be what he hates the most.

A pig.

A pig that turns into a monster by letting out its most primitive instincts. 

But that's not the point.

He squeezes the pillow with his hands and thrusts the mattress once more, wildly.

With Erwin Smith, everything is different.

It's clean.

Because he's a gentleman.

Unable to stop the anger and arousal, exerting too much pressure on the mattress, he remembers once again. Erwin told him he would make him feel good, he promised him with that conciliatory tone that is so unpleasant because of how charming it is, looking into his eyes with a boyish gesture, with the most teenage eyes that Levi remembers. 

Erwin kissed him right after that, after his promise; he kissed him with a delicacy, with a devotion that caused, within him, an atrocious confusion. He felt his arousal as well as Erwin's, but this one wasn't behaving like a pig.

How? Why?

He'd never been sucked off before; Farlan tried to do it, but Levi couldn't accept it. Putting another man's dick in your mouth and then continue to kiss him? What a disgusting idea! Growing up in a brothel has consequences: everything that means intimate contact displeases him. 

Everything.

Or so he thought.

When he and Farlan kissed that night, to his surprise, something inside Levi felt right. He had sworn never to touch a woman, but the trust he had in Farlan combined with the excitement of a simple wine-flavored lip rub opened up a new, different universe under his feet. 

He had sworn so much that he would never do it, that he would never be a pig with any woman, that he wasn’t attracted to women, after all, but to men.

He thought so, at least.

After he let Farlan did it, he did it to Farlan. In one role and the other, the arousal and the trust left aside the disgust for intimate contact; although it was a mess, it was certainly a beautiful one. But then…

_"I don't like women."_

_"They're so incredible… You're missing out on something great! This takes more work; you have to properly open th…"_

_"Shut up."_

_"Well, well… You're not going to tell me you're ashamed to talk openly with me! Levi: we just fucked. If anyone in the neighborhood finds out, they'll hang our mutilated dicks on a pole. There's no point in keeping anything we need to say to ourselves! If you like dicks, that's fine with me."_

_"It's not about that."_

_"What do you mean?"_

_"Fucking a woman is not something that…"_

_"Wait: it's because of your mom, I know… But I think you're wrong about something, you know? Let's just say, that you like men have nothing to do with your mom or the hatred that the customers made you feel, those rich pigs that come to cheat on their wives in the Underground so as not to stain their image up there. That you like men have to do with the fact that you're you, that you were born that way, that that's what you like because it's part of your nature or something like that. It's part of who you are, and I think that's valid!"_

Damn Farlan, Farlan and his mischievous fingers tickling his shoulder, Farlan who never slept with him again, but who was there for him whenever he needed him. He was beautiful, and a good guy, and wiser than most distinguished people on the outside. He had the wisdom of the streets, of the gangs, and a lack of morals compared to the outside and to the Underground itself that made him think about things from another perspective. He never made a single joke about his preferences.

And he was right: it wasn't for his mother, but himself.

He likes men because he's Levi, that's the only reason. 

But he has never met someone like Erwin Smith before.

Farlan used to tell him that sometimes it’s not a gender, but a particular person.

_"That's why I enjoyed it! Because you're you."_

He holds a smile against the pillow when he hears Farlan's voice inside his brain.

He's sure he doesn't like women; he has never been attracted to them. Few men have attracted him; in general, the tall ones are the type that he can't help but look at even without noticing.

How obvious, suddenly, it becomes all when he thinks of Erwin, the tallest, brightest, most beautiful man he has ever seen. 

Attraction, trust, cleanliness; he's never felt those three things at once. Farlan had a lot of that, but Erwin is different.

He's fascinated by him. The bastard fascinates him in a way he doesn't understand.

He knows he mustn't allow this to happen again. This is not the context, this is not the time, this is not a situation in which he should give in to an attraction that brings him out of his depth so easily. He can't lose control of himself; he must stay strong and fight. There's too much truth to be discovered out there. 

He won't find freedom in sex.

But how inevitable to squeeze his erection against the mattress, how inevitable to remember Erwin sucking him off. His warmth, his gasping out of breath, the swaying of his golden, disheveled hair, his sweaty brow as he was sinking him into his mouth again and again.

He can't let this happen again, no.

Nor he can’t avoid addiction, that thought of Erwin while he's thrusting the mattress, that feeling of Erwin giving him pleasure a thousand times, silencing the pain, illuminating even the darkest corner of his heart.

"Shit…" he gasps, frustrated.

He makes him weak. Erwin makes him an imbecile, so much so that he even reactivates that capacity which he has never managed to kill, that capacity to feel, to feel a lot, to adore.

That Erwin advancing beyond the wall, accepting him as his most valuable blade, proud of his strength, the same cause that pushes them along the same road. 

It's late, he understands by carrying a shy hand between his legs, angry at being so dirty on the inside and the outside.

Proud to be so, especially since Erwin is the one who encourages him to accept everything that he is for the Survey Corps, for his comrades.

For the future of humanity.

For…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Thanks a lot for reading. ♥
> 
> About Levi and disgust and cleanliness and pigs: later on we will understand better what this is all about. It's something about Levi that I feel deeply, the idea that he's not a person very interested in sex, not if he doesn't feel an absolute trust for his partner. The idea that Erwin awakens such a huge desire has to do with attraction, with trust, with the Ackerbond too (?), with more things. This was just a first approach.
> 
> About the blowjob (?): I wasn't interested in being explicit in this particular scene, which is more about Erwin's emotions than Levi's pleasure (that's why I narrated it from Erwin's POV). Another kind of scenes will come along, some more emotional, some more horny (?); they have to learn how to trust each other first.
> 
> And that will be very difficult to them, I'm afraid.
> 
> About the shower: Showers exists in that world? I don't know, but my research says it's not far-fetched. So I used it, sorry. 😭
> 
> I hope you like the chapter. ♥️
> 
> Thank you so much to those who always comment, share and support this story. It means a lot to me.
> 
> Ah! I'm going to upload relatively quickly the next two chapters. Afterwards I may take longer, but it's because there's a series of longer chapters coming up to which I have to pay a lot of attention, especially to translate them.
> 
> I hope you like what's coming! I'm putting all my love into it. 
> 
> Kisses!


	13. XIII

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning! This chapter is about some kind of flu. I wrote it in November, not suspecting that this "simple flu" I described was going to be updated in the midst of a pandemic that is changing our lives right now.
> 
> I apologize for any discomfort this chapter may cause without meaning to. It was not my intention.
> 
> A very warm hug for everyone, especially for those who, like me, are in mandatory quarantine. 
> 
> Stay strong and safe, please. I wish you the best. ♥

**XIII**

He wakes up from the most restful sleep he has had in years with such dizziness that makes him sleepier, something unusual for him, someone with so much responsibility and stress. He lets himself fall, rubs his head against the pillow, sighs half asleep. He smiles.

Levi.

Whining pleasantly.

Kissing him.

Reflecting the same guilt, one story telling the other.

Levi saying his name turned into a beautiful contradiction.

He smiles, yes; his mouth hurts when he does so. He squeezes his eyes shut when the emotion closes his throat. 

How little he deserves so much. 

The sadness that manifests itself in his chest at the thought of it chokes him. Nervous, he looks for the liquid to calm down on his bedside table. He drinks it, rests on the pillow again, controls his missy breathing.

He has no right to smile.

But he can treasure what happened the night before.

Yes, he will treasure this memory.

It will be the best reminder of his humanity when the time comes to leave it behind.

The morning goes by normally after waking up sunk in such ambivalent sensations. He works a little, struggles against the urge to overthink, to overanalyze his feelings, to yearn to repeat what he promised to never allow again.

He looks at the couch on which so much happened, looks at the door against which their bodies collided amid the desire exalted by so many fervent kisses. 

No. He won't betray Levi's trust.

He never will.

He sighs just before he goes back to work. At lunchtime, he remembers to eat; that shows how little he manages to concentrate on his duties.

Levi doesn't show up in the dining room at all. 

Why?

"Have you seen Levi?" he asks Hanji as he approaches their table after lunch.

Hanji, with an evident hangover before a glass of water, answers that they don't.

"I haven't seen him since last night… Oh, my head hurts so much! I shouldn't have challenged Moblit and Gelgar to see who could drink a liter of beer faster…" Hanji shake their head, yawn, massage their temple as they lift their glasses. "Did you get a chance to talk to him?"

Erwin, without showing any emotion, nods.

If Hanji knew what…

No, he mustn't think about that.

"He was a little gloomy, I guess. He seemed calmer at the end of the talk," he says, seemingly relaxed despite how many lies he tells.

"I'm glad. Well done, future commander! Dealing with your soldiers' emotions is important."

And dealing with his own emotions, or so it seems, is not an option, not in his position.

"Maybe he's still asleep," Hanji continues. "Or so I hope! Those dark circles don't come from lack of sex…"

Erwin represses a laugh that makes him feel as guilty as everything else. Lying is necessary when playing the game of power in the Capital, but it's not something he enjoys doing here, in front of his comrades.

Or yes, he used to deal well even with this, with the lies hidden behind his eyes, but something has changed.

Now Levi exists, and his presence in his life is as powerful as his kisses.

He's a storm that has come to destroy him. 

A reality that, because of this Erwin who is not able to deal with so much, is destabilizing everything.

"I'll go get him," he says as he leaves.

"I'll go with you!" Hanji exclaims, and although Erwin would like to see him alone, he knows that having others present is the best.

Because he regrets nothing, he doesn't have the time or the strength to do it anymore, but he's not willing to fail Levi, to disrespect him for passing inadequate boundaries.

He has no right, he doesn't.

No.

In front of his door, Erwin knocks three times; no one answers. Hanji shouts; nothing.

All of a sudden, after Erwin knocks three more times with the memory of the previous night too latent and the anguish growing inside him, the door opens.

Levi, with a red face and tired eyes, is shaking covered by a blanket. He looks at Erwin, he looks at Hanji, and he holds himself from the door.

"What the fuck do you want?" he whispers almost voicelessly. "Leave, I'm not in the mood…"

Hanji pulls Erwin aside and doesn't hesitate to touch his forehead.

"You have a very high temperature," they say, worried.

Levi, with an abrupt movement despite his notorious weakness, pushes aside from them.

"Don't touch me, I told you to…" he says right before he loses his balance.

Erwin holds him. He hugs him against his chest, and yes, it's enough for him to imitate Hanji by touching his forehead to confirm it: he has a high temperature, very high. 

"Go to the infirmary," he asks Hanji, "I'll put him to bed."

Hanji runs away without any objection. Erwin carries Levi to the only open bed and puts him there. He wraps him up in the same blankets he gave him the night before and smiles when he notices the one he used to cover himself to open the door was, in fact, one of them.

"Go away, I don’t want you to catch this."

"Don't worry about it."

"Of course I do! Go clean you up and leave me alone. Go on, get out."

"Levi…"

"Go away! You can't fucking catch this. Go away."

Why is he so adamant about that? Why does Levi seem so terrified of the idea of him catching it, if…

"We don't know what do you have," he explains to him as patiently as possible. "First let's wait for someone to check this out."

Levi cowers under the blankets. His face, resigned, looks childish because of the blush that the high temperature is causing on his cheeks.

"Best fucking birthday of my life," Levi whispers just before shut up from a coughing fit. 

Erwin covers him up to the neck.

"Easy…" That’s all he can say.

At the moment, Hanji arrives with a young recruit, who greets Erwin with the greatest respect.

"Ilse Langnar, sir! Volunteer in charge of the infirmary, sir!"

Erwin nods to her, looking at her freckles: they're very pretty. As he recalls from reports he had to write, she's covering a comrade who traveled to visit his family. Although nursing is not her area, for being a doctors’ daughter she has enough knowledge to be a substitute.

He watches her check Levi, take his temperature and pulse, examine under his eyes, his throat, his chest while asking him all sorts of questions.

"There's no doubt about it, sir: it's the flu, the usual one at this time of year. It's the third case in the last ten days! The temperature is very high and difficult to lower, requires a lot of rest. Perhaps he'll spend the next week in bed."

"Shit…" Levi whispers just before he coughs again.

"He needs medicine; we have the necessary ones in stock. We must keep him as warm as possible and use cold compresses to lower his temperature. He just needs to rest a lot, no need to worry."

It's, suddenly, as if Levi was no longer that strong and brave man who flies like no other, the best soldier in the Survey Corps. Before Erwin's eyes, he becomes as earthy as the others, as he is himself. Seeing him sick is weird, it's different.

It’s sad.

"No stove," Hanji says as they check the room. "Ilse, is it possible that the cold of the last days has helped the flu?"

She nods. 

"Without a doubt."

"Levi!" Hanji exclaims; they sound annoying, something unusual for them. "You should have asked for a stove!"

On top of that, Erwin thinks as he watches him cough, Levi comes from the Underground. It's his first winter out here, and the new environment may have affected him a little more than the rest. 

"What a shitty winter you have out here," he hears him say in a faint whisper. 

It's like he heard his thoughts.

Erwin sighs: it's important to take care of Levi. As far as the Survey Corps is concerned, he's the most necessary soldier, the one who can never be absent; for him, he's the person he least wants to see like this, without strength, with tired eyes, defeated by the flu that is not worthy of knocking down someone so strong.

"It’ll be better to leave him here; in the infirmary, there are two soldiers still under observation, seriously wounded in the last expedition. This kind of flu is not very contagious, as I remember, but it’ll be better not to take unnecessary risks," Erwin considers. He doesn't even think about the possibility of catching this flu nor the anguish caused by the guilt of everything that has happened between them; before Levi’s convalesce, everything but him disappears. "Hanji, get a stove, please. Ilse, I’ll accompany you to the infirmary, we will make a list of medicines and the times when he must take them. Levi…" He looks at him, and behind his impeccable mask, that of the honorable man that everyone sees in him, he's nothing but _Eyebrows_ , _Eyebrows_ suffering from seeing him ill, wondering why he didn't notice earlier the cold that Levi had been passing through in silence the last few nights, even before he found him as he did yesterday. "Rest, please. I'll come by later to…"

"What's going on here?" someone asks from the door.

It's commander Shadis.

"Sir," Erwin exclaims, "Levi came down with the flu."

Shadis doesn't hide the surprise before the information.

"He kills titans like flies, but he comes down with the flu. We all have a weak spot," he says with his usual tone, the stern one that Erwin already imagines training new applicants: he'll be a great instructor. "I'm glad to know you're human, boy: I was beginning to think you were some kind of monster out of a failed experiment."

Erwin notices how Ilse contains a laugh. Her freckles are covered by a slight blush. 

"Well," Shadis continues. "Erwin, let Langnar do her job and follow me. Take care of Humanity's Strongest Soldier, I have many new tasks to assign him from January."

Levi and Erwin watch each other in silence: neither of them has any idea what the commander is saying. 

Shadis laughs. In his way, but he does. He studies Erwin for a few significant seconds, and although this one feels uncomfortable underneath the innate aggressiveness of that look, he holds the unchangeable gesture.

"Come on, Erwin."

Shadis leaves; Erwin follows him. He whispers _take care of him_ to Ilse before leaving the room.

He looks at Levi from the doorway, and how strange it's to see him like that.

.

.

.

Exhausted as if he had just killed a hundred titans or even more, Levi blinks and blinks, confused, as he wakes up. 

Fucking flu.

He looks at the stove placed next to the window and notices, all around him, the difference it makes to the environment after the air circulation that the girl from the infirmary made by opening the window.

It's the first time he's had a stove. The first in his entire life.

He must have asked for it, if…

He dozes for a while. From time to time, he thinks about nothing. Other times, however, he allows himself to feel the rage that fills him.

What if he caught this shit? Even if Erwin says this flu isn't particularly contagious, he doesn't…

How can he get sick like that? He's clean, he’s always clean, he always keeps everything around him clean. He's been doing it for too many years, he's not willing to let that happen again. 

That, yes.

Shit, what if he gave it to Erwin? Why did he have to get sick right now, after what happened last night? Did it affect him so much to be cold so many nights in this room? Did it affect him so much to be sleeping less than he usually does? Surely that was it, spending most of the last few nights sleeping so little, forty-five minutes, half an hour, an hour at the most. And that damn blonde guy the other day! The one who practically begged him to show him a couple of moves with the three-dimensional maneuvering equipment despite the cold outside. Was Eld his name? If he recalls, he coughed more than once in front of him.

If Erwin gets sick…

The door kicks open and closes in the same way. A chair appears next to his bed and a person sits down to give him a bowl.

"I made it myself! Go on, feed yourself," Hanji says.

Levi looks at the bowl in his hands. The soup looked delicious until Hanji told him the latter.

"Tell me your grandmother taught it to you or something like that. Don't tell me you invented it; I don't want to die yet."

"You underestimate me! I cook very well, you'll be surprised."

"The problem is not you're bad at cooking; the problem is that you're dirty, unsanitary, and you should stay away from food."

"Unsanitary! How exaggerated, hey… Eat, or I'll give it to you, spoonful by spoonful, like a baby!"

Levi stirs the soup with the spoon. He takes one spoonful without any desire to eat; he hides the surprise by mere pride. He doesn't want to agree with Hanji.

It's delicious, yes.

He eats in silence, spoonful by spoonful, while Hanji looks at him with a smile on their lips. It's not easy to admit, not for someone like him, but four eyes is not that bad. 

Because the dynamics of their conversations are like the one with Farlan and Isabel. A little teasing, a little provocation.

Good intentions, above all.

Someone's at the door - it's Ilse. She doesn't bring any medicine, luckily (that strange syrup she gave him earlier was disgusting; what horrible things people from the outside take for flu. In the Underground, all they could do was drink a certain kind of tea, as long as they got it), but she does bring a book. 

She puts it on the foot of his bed, which is the lower of two, and smiles at him.

"I thought I'd bring you a book to entertain you while you're resting! It's a children's book, I'm sorry if it's a little silly for you, but it's my favorite and…"

Hanji holds it.

"I read it when I was little! Myths And Legends Of The Known World _._ "

"Isn't it nice?" Ilse answers with obvious enthusiasm. "I couldn't bring many books with me, but I didn't want to leave this one behind…"

"I'm sure Levi will find it entertaining. Right, Levi? Say thank you to Ilse."

"I'm not a child, don't tell me what to do." He finishes the soup and gives the bowl to Hanji. Listlessly, he drops onto the mattress and lays the cold compress on his forehead. "Thank you for the book and the soup. I need to sleep."

"Of course! I'll come back later to give you another dose of the syrup," Ilse promises. When she smiles at him, her freckles seem to jump off her face. 

There is something childlike in her, and yes, as always: what inevitability to think of Isabel.

"And I'll bring you more soup! Although… Ilse, could you give us a moment, please?"

Hanji smiles at her when she nods and leaves. 

What the fuck is wrong with four eyes?

"Did you fuck Erwin?"

Levi clenches his teeth. 

Piece of…!

"I didn't fuck anyone, shitty eyes. You ask me something else about it and…"

"You know how I figured it out? Go on, ask me."

He's too weak, he finds out: he can't fight Hanji, not now.

Maybe he needs to talk to someone, he admits as he sinks the left side of his face into the pillow.

"So, tell me what the fuck you're hallucinating now," he answers without flinching.

Hanji show their teeth when they smile. They look like a titan, just like they looked in Moblit's drawing.

"I've noticed that you always reject physical contact: when someone touches you, you shun them. But you let yourself be embraced by Erwin."

"I’m sick and I got fucking weak. Is that so weird?"

"You avoided me a second early."

"I don't like your smell."

"I would believe Mike, but not you. You avoided me because I'm nobody special; you let yourself be held down by Erwin because you have another kind of intimacy with him, one you didn't have until last night."

"You're crazy."

"You talked and that's it? That's what you're gonna tell me? Come on, Levi! I went to look for you about four times to do a drink competition with Moblit, Gelgar and Nita, and I found the door of Erwin's office closed - I know you were there for a while, I saw a light on through the window!"

"I didn't fuck Erwin."

"Then you like him so much that you'd let him hug you."

"Dammit, four eyes. Don't go telling me you're turned on by the thought of your comrades fucking."

"Of course not! Although… t-the commander…" They blush, swallow, stand up abruptly after adjusting their glasses. "Well, anyway! I think something happened, but don't worry, I won't ask you again and I won't ask Erwin either. I'll keep my eyes open! But for now, I'll let you rest."

Levi turns his back when he sees them get up, turns his chest to the wall against which his bed is placed.

"It's better that way. Let me sleep, four eyes."

"All right, cleaning freak."

Levi turns a little; Hanji laughs.

The dynamic reminds him of both of them, yes. But it doesn't hurt.

It makes him feel good.

He tries to sleep, sinks his face into the pillow.

Feeling good. How strange it is, despite the hell they live in, to feel like this, empty, with nothing but…

.

.

.

_"Sweetie…"_

_"What?"_

_"Don't be afraid."_

_"Afraid…?"_

_"We, the…"_

.

.

.

"Levi?"

He wakes up: Erwin is holding one of his shoulders. He's sitting by his bed, in the chair Hanji brought several hours ago. He looks worried.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Levi asks. As he rolls over in bed, he feels sweaty, very sweaty, and how disgusting it's not to be able to bathe.

Fucking dirt.

"You were babbling and shaking, I thought you were having a nightmare and decided to wake you up," Erwin says in reply.

Nightmare, he says. No, never.

When it comes to his mom, no, it's impossible.

He analyzes everything around Erwin: there is a lit candle over a bench that Erwin himself seems to have brought. Outside, the night has come.

On the bench, next to the candle, there's a bowl. Soup.

"You should leave."

"Don't worry about me."

"Blondie, you have to…"

"How do you feel?"

Only then Levi asks himself: how does he feel? To his surprise, after two doses of the strange syrup Ilse gave him, he feels much better.

He takes the cold compress away from him, leaves it by his pillow. How awkward.

"I want to take a bath," is all he can say.

"You'll have to wait a little longer. Can I…?" Erwin raises a hand and shows him his palm.

Levi nods. Erwin touches his forehead and smiles.

"You don't have temperature anymore."

That explains the sweat.

The dirt.

"I-I need to take a bath," he repeats, because he's dirty, very dirty.

Because he sweats dirt.

"You should wait a little longer and rest; you're still weak."

"I can't wait, you don't understand. I'm dirty!" he repeats, and the clothes bother him, and the sweat bothers him, and the sweaty sheets bother him. 

Erwin frowns.

"Can I ask you something?" he says.

Levi removes two of the three blankets that cover him; it's as if everything makes him feel suffocated. 

"What?" he asks. 

Erwin approaches him.

"Why is cleanliness so important to you?"

Levi sighs: he won't tell him.

He won't, ever.

"Are you surprised that someone from the Underground is clean? I want to believe you're not that kind of shit."

A little surprisingly, Erwin giggles.

"It has nothing to do with where you came from."

"Great, 'cause that would make you an asshole."

"It's just… Well, I guess there's no point in my asking. If you like it, you like it, and it's a good thing, cleanliness is good."

"That's why I need to take a bath."

"I can't help you with that, Levi, but I can give you clean clothes or clean sheets or both."

"I need to bathe, to air the mattress, to wipe, to sweep, to wash my clothes and the sheets, to bathe again, to wipe, to sweep, to put on new sheets, to wash the clothes I used to clean, to bathe again, to put on clean clothes to sleep not without first sweeping: I cannot accept clean clothes or sheets from you without doing all of the above," he says, and he doesn't realize how much his voice speeds up, how he loses his breath.

.

.

.

Something’s wrong about the dirt, then, because this doesn't sound like a hobby. 

"Do you feel well?" Levi asks him without looking at him, without air.

Being pure tension.

"Huh?"

"Let's just say that last night we had more physical contact than expected between two comrades." Levi looks far, far away from him.

Erwin, uninterested in his well-being, nods.

"I'm fine, I didn’t catch the flu."

"Great. But try to clean yourself, okay? Take a bath, wash your sheets, also the clothes you had last night. When you leave here, also wash the clothes you are wearing now and make sure you disinfect your whole room with a damp rag and bleach; this is no time to take risks, future commander. Promise me you'll do it, or I'll go and do it myself."

Erwin hides his curiosity; he can't ask, not now.

Because no, it doesn't sound like a hobby.

It sounds like an obsession, mania, anxiety, phobia.

It sounds like fear.

.

.

.

"I will. I also promise to help you clean up here as soon as you get back on your feet."

"You have important work to do. Besides, as I told you, you don't even do it well."

"I can learn."

Erwin smiles at him, and Levi feels, as he fixes his eyes on the smile, that something inside him is calming down, is shutting up. 

He takes a deep breath; the anxiety goes down. Not quite, but enough.

"Okay," he says. "Everyone in this damn base should learn to clean."

Erwin laughs, again, and the anxiety goes down a little more.

"I'll let you give an open class after New Year, I promise." Erwin holds the soup and hands it to him. Levi, lying on one side, rests it on the mattress and takes small sips from the spoon; instantly, he recognizes it as the soup they serve in the dining room. 

The heat that spreads inside of him feels nice.

"You better not be lying: it's necessary."

"I know, I know…"

Erwin keeps quiet as Levi feeds; he doesn't look at him, he looks at the floor, the door, his own hands lying on his lap. His hands are big; they have scars, many, from who knows how many battles, but they don't lose what they transmit, an unbreakable strength.

Just looking at them like this, his hands so impeccable despite the scars, the uniform so neatly put on, makes him feel clean. 

It makes him feel good, very good.

Erwin is being nice to him and he's asking nothing in return. He didn't even ask him last night as hard as he was; he let him go.

He respected him.

What has he given in return? He's got this nasty flu, he can't clean up, he can't make sure Erwin doesn't get sick. 

He can't take care of him.

Maybe he should stop being so…

"A book?" Erwin reaches out for the book that lies at the foot of the bed, examines it, raises his eyebrows as he reads the title. Why does that surprise him so much? "Who gave this to you?" he asks, and his voice shows an unusual enthusiasm that Levi has never noticed in Erwin.

An enthusiasm that perhaps he has never noticed ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Привет!
> 
> Thank you so much for reading my fic! ♥
> 
> I'm going to make some small comments as quickly as possible, excuse me:
> 
> Ilse: her appearance is the beginning, timid but precise, of the divergence that this story will have from the canon. That is: Ilse marks the beginning of the plot itself. Why did I choose her? I'm very fond of her. Ilse's Notebook was my first contact with SNK seven years ago and I'm grateful to her. To tell how it was would be too long, but it was something magical to me. :')
> 
> Another one who has already appeared but you don't know it yet is Gunther. XD Now he's someone who's been in the background since the first chapter. I'll soon give him his name (?). About Eld, I didn't mention him casually, of course. And Oluo and Petra are coming (?).
> 
> Levi and cleaning: there are many curious things about Levi that, for me, can be explained with just one word. I have a strong opinion about why Levi is so obsessive about cleaning and it's something that is going to be very important in the development of his relationship with Erwin. 
> 
> (MANGA SPOILERS)Hanji's Soup: Same as I said at the beginning, I wrote this months before chapter 127. I'm glad to know that I was right and Hanji, in fact, does cook well! XD(END MANGA SPOILERS)
> 
> Dita and Gelgar: Did they survive so many years? I don't know, but since I consider them "team veterans" and I wanted to fill out the cast a bit (?) I decided to use them in the background so I wouldn't have to create soldiers. I'd like to give Dita some dialogue because I think he's a beautiful character. Let's see where I put him (?).
> 
> Thank you very much for reading my story. I know it has countless flaws and I promise I will give my best. I want to do something you guys can enjoy with me! Because sharing it with you makes me infinitely happy.
> 
> Thank you. ♥♥♥


	14. XIV

**XIV**

"Freckles gave it to me," Levi says; he talks about Ilse, of course, and her pretty freckles. "The girl is nice, she said it's her favorite book. She gave it to me to kill time."

Levi finishes the soup and tries to leave the bowl on the bench. Erwin stops him, prevents him from making some effort; he does it himself by leaving the book on his lap. 

"It's also one of my favorites…" Erwin reveals, and the smile that blossoms on his lips is the most beautiful one Levi has ever seen.

It's the purest, cleanest smile he has seen in a long time.

"A children's book? I didn't know you were so childish," Levi responds. 

Only when he says the latter, he realizes that not only he feels much better, almost like new, but also he no longer coughs when he speaks. It's not the first time this has happened to him, if he thinks about it, although he has been sick very few times, really few. 

He never lasts more than two days in bed. Never, not for something bad as this flu.

Erwin smiles once more; Levi, soon, doesn't manage to gather a single thought.

Not before that purity that reminds him so much the air that only behind the walls they can find.

"It's a very nice book." Frowning, more for some kind of tenderness than for discomfort or concern, Erwin strokes the cover. "Also, well… There is some speculation about its origin."

The tenderness, in the face, becomes enthusiasm, the same it showed in the first question. Erwin looks radiant, full of life, as if that book nourished something very important to him, vital.

What is it?

"I have no way to escape," Levi says, indifferent on the outside, full of curiosity on the inside. "If you want to tell me, I'll listen - I never read it and I know no shit about it."

Erwin looks up: his eyes look bluer than ever, so much so that they even overcome the golden hue that comes from the candle. Or is it just his impression after having a high temperature? Levi feels something twisting inside of him, perhaps his heart.

How weak he makes him. Damn it.

"This book dates from the year 753, that is, ten years after the one in which, according to the history books, the titans appeared." Levi turns his head. Why does he clarify something so obvious? Why clarify something about history books? "Supposedly, it was written by someone called Lozh, the son of a nobleman who dedicated his life to literature, which was a disgrace to his family because he was forced to renounce to his last name."

At least, Levi thinks, he had a last name to renounce.

He, on the other hand…

"But it is said that sixty years ago, some historians that were researching behind the royal family, discovered some writings on a scroll in an unknown alphabet inside of an old rural library. Some people who lived on the edge of the walls, supposed Asians, managed to read some fragments: they were paragraphs from this same book, although with some differences that, at present, no one can specify. An accident caused a fire in that library shortly after that; nothing was left but ashes. No one knows if this story is true, but the myth is known in certain circles."

"And what would it mean that it was in the Asian alphabet and written on a scroll? I don't understand.”

"It means that at least part of this book may have been written before the titans appeared. That said the writing on the scroll: according to those Asians, that method is old, very old. So, if we base ourselves on that detail, it was before Lozh. If this is true, then it's the oldest writing that mankind has ever known."

Levi is surprised; at the same time, he doesn't fully understand. There's one detail that doesn't seem to fit anywhere. 

"Why would you consider a book that tells stories for children so valuable?"

Erwin smiles. It's not tenderness what he expresses; it's something more twisted.

It's conviction.

"Literature often speaks more of our history than we think. It's a reflection, a representation of who we were and who we are."

Levi rests his elbow on the bed, leaning on one side, and rests his cheek on his hand to look at Erwin. He tries to tie up the ends; in doing so, he discovers a loose one.

"Does that mean history books say nothing about humanity before the titans? Is that what you're telling me?"

Erwin raises his eyebrows. His eyes shine almost as brightly as Hanji's on those occasions when someone asks them about the titans.

"Levi… Didn't you go to school?" Erwin asks as his eyebrows drop, showing a new, deep sadness.

Levi looks to one side.

"There are no schools in the Underground, just a few volunteers who teach on the streets or in some bar, among drunks and criminals."

"But you can read, as I recall."

"Yes. I… I learned from a volunteer."

Actually, no: he learned from a prostitute. From Lola, who offered his mother to teach him how to read while she worked. Later, his mom helped him go over, made him read a book she always kept hidden under their bed.

But he won't tell Erwin that.

He won't tell anyone that, ever.

"I didn't know, forgive my ignorance."

Erwin smiles at him with a warmth that raises his temperature. Not that of the flu, not that of desire; it's something in his chest, a heat that exceeds him when it manifests itself.

"You didn't have to know that," Levi answers, dry, still looking to one side. "But why are you asking me that?"

"In school, it's often explained that there is no history before the titans."

The eyebrows that raise, now, are Levi's.

"How is it possible?"

Erwin's blue loses its brightness when his pupils dilate too much.

"No one knows, but about the book…" Erwin strokes the cover once more. "It is said that, among these innocent children's tales, there are hidden truths about the world that we lost on the other side of the walls. For example…" Erwin turns the pages and reads every title he comes across. "…” The Slave and the Little Pigs”, “The Devil and the Giant Girl”, “The Sisters and the Tree of Light”, “Grandpa's Memory”, “The Queen and Her Brave Knight” …" Erwin smiles as he mentions the latter. "The last one used to be my favorite."

"Not anymore?"

"No."

"And what's your favorite?"

"Grandpa's Memory."

"What is it about?"

"Oh, I won't tell you, I wouldn't want to ruin your experience. Let's just say… it describes something very interesting."

Something, in Erwin's eyes, looks lost. It's as if Erwin gets lost in his memory, and how much that title seems to represent him, all of a sudden.

"More interesting than a queen and her knight? I thought you were a romantic."

Erwin laughs, and Levi feels joy, a genuine joy, one unknown to someone like him, for being able to look at that smile.

He feels joy because that smile exists.

"Read it," he says.

"What?"

"That tale. Grandpa's, your favorite one."

The emotion of the eyes, the blue that put to shame the warmth of the light that the candle transmits with its charm, the childish smile that is painted on the thick, beautiful lips that Levi enjoyed kissing so much the night before…

Erwin looks stunning like this.

He looks happy, and that happiness breaks Levi's pupils, pierces them, and fills his eyes with a heat that makes him dizzy.

It's so…

"Okay," Erwin says, and his voice sounds broken at the end.

Beautiful.

.

.

.

_Once upon a time, there was a kingdom that was very, very sad. War was devastating all around it and people were losing hope._

_Seeing the people so sad, the king decided to do something to distract them from the war. With beautiful silver rocks from an ancient sacred temple, he sent to cover his palace with them._

_The people, dazzled by the brightness of the stones, one that covered the entire kingdom in silver during the night thanks to the reflection of the moonlight, kept their eyes on the palace._

_Despite the war that was going on behind their backs, they did not turn back._

_People spent their days and nights looking at the palace. It was so beautiful, so magnificent!_

.

.

.

Levi loses the thread for a moment, while Erwin reads paragraphs and paragraphs that relate how people, without realizing it, looked more and more at the palace every day, so much so that they began to forget everything that was happening around them daily. He listens to the story, understands it, but something covers him up and turns him off intermittently.

It's the passion with which Erwin reads.

It's the light that seems to come from his skin when he reads with such charm. 

.

.

.

_…finally, people forgot about the war._

_An old man, who had protected the kingdom in his youth, watched the palace from his window like everyone else. One day, so many people surrounded the palace that the old man, forgotten by his grandchildren, could no longer see it from the window. In the silence, the old man began to feel lonely. He tried to call the people, to ask his grandchildren to come back, but no one listened to him. The people, in front of the palace, spoke so loudly and turned their backs on him so much that it did not matter how much he shouted._

_Nobody turned around_.

.

.

.

Erwin reads to him how people kept that attitude until their soldiers lost the war and the enemy troops approached. The old man shouted in such a way that a neighbor who was near his window heard him. He tried to warn the people, but they didn't listen to him either. 

People turned around when it was too late. A battle happened, many managed to escape but others didn't. The old man continued to shout until the kingdom was conquered. After that, hiding behind his window, he saw how those soldiers put their eyes on the palace and sank into the same state of enchantment as those of his people. Other troops attacked at dusk and the same thing happened to them. Then, at dawn, others did so. The old man tried to warn them all to end the war, but it was in vain. 

While the people looked at the palace, only he, until his death, kept the truth of what happened, while the king, inside the palace, lived his life as if nothing had happened, protected by the people who, hypnotized, didn't stop surrendering to the beauty that surrounded the palace. 

Levi feels in some kind of astonishment that he can't avoid. Erwin, meanwhile, smiles at the letters he has just read.

"What does it remind you of?" he asks.

"You," Levi answers instantly.

Erwin looks at him, and how obvious is the affection his eyes show, how huge is the appreciation he expresses. 

"Why me?"

"Because, just like you, the old man wanted people to know the truth."

"And what does beauty remind you of?"

What does it remind him of? Levi opens his eyes a little wider than he usually does when he understands.

"The walls."

"More than that, Levi: beauty is the lie in which we live, which we are taught to accept as the only one truth. And the old man is not me; he's us. The old man represents every person who has ever tried to question the reality that the higher classes together with the royal family have forced us to believe, now with the walls and in the past with who knows what kind of trickery… It is that someone denied us the truth, brought us here and locked us up without giving us any choice.

"People accept the reality they see, accept that the walls distract them as long as it allows them to live a life full of peace; we, the Survey Corps, continue to fight even though it seems that no one can understand why we do it. With no budget, with people turning their backs on us… As I grew up, I knew that I would rather be that old man than part of the people, blinded by a wall that makes me accept things as they are."

Levi tries to say something; he can’t. His voice disappears; the mere possibility of pronouncing syllables, even unconnected ones, vanishes. Everything goes away, like when Erwin gave him pleasure the night before, but for another reason, a less dirty one, but a very significant one.

Nothing inspires him more than Erwin Smith's longings.

He wants to be there, by his side, on the day when it could be possible to look the truth in the eye.

"You look tired," Erwin says as he closes the book. "I'll let you sleep, okay?"

"All right," Levi replies almost voicelessly.

Erwin leaves the book on the foot of the bed, gets up from the chair; he sits down again and stares at him.

"Are you sure you don't want to change your clothes? I'll give you some clean ones if you tell me where to find them."

"I don't like you to worry about me, blondie. Go clean your room as I told you and then take a shit and go to sleep, go on."

Erwin laughs, he has already laughed too much, and Levi feels a new and comforting sense of cleanliness covering him.

Then Erwin squeezes his hand, does it gently. He smiles once more, at him alone, and Levi looks away.

Inside, he wants to scream.

He sees him leave with the candle and the empty bowl; Erwin is too big for this room. It's as if he doesn't fit, not here, not anywhere else.

This world is not enough, no, not for someone like him. 

Soon, he's overcome with frustration.

"Wait," he says when Erwin holds the knob to open the door.

Erwin turns around. 

"Tell me," he says without approaching him. The candle strikingly illuminates his face.

He looks handsome under that light that adorns everything but the eyes, so blue that they need no help to shine.

"About old Shadis," Levi says, "what did he mean about having plans for me?"

Erwin closes his eyes for one more second than it would take to blink. He stares at him, and Levi covers himself a little more with the sheets given the cold that the distance inspires him.

"He told me several things, it's a bit long to explain."

"I don't care, tell me."

"Well…" Erwin returns to the chair, as the candle returns to the bench. "For now, I'll tell you this: the commander recommended that I train your leadership and teamwork skills. I had planned to do that, anyway, but he made some interesting suggestions about it that gave me other ideas that I discussed with him."

Intrigued, Levi frowns.

"What ideas?"

Erwin talks as calmly as he usually does, quietly, in his five senses:

"When you're ready, I should consider creating a special position for you, one that doesn't exist."

"Huh?"

Erwin laughs, again, and each time he does it's worse but better than the last one.

It's more special. 

"Your talent is extraordinary, Levi: if you could have a special squad in which you were surrounded by comrades who fought alongside you, who were trained to work around you, just as your friends did, knowing you thoroughly and understanding each of your decisions without the need to talk, out of habit and trust out there, you could do fantastic things, accomplish special operations during each expedition."

A special operations squad? Led by him?

A squad created purely and exclusively for him? 

He drops onto the bed: he feels better, but he's also exhausted. He still doesn't understand how he got sick like this, so abruptly.

Maybe, his defenses were low and the cold and that Eld's coughing did the rest. To think of it doesn't seem to make any difference now.

He doesn't want to think about dirt, not in front of Erwin Smith.

"I'll tell you the rest tomorrow, I promise." Erwin stands up once more. Levi looks at his thighs almost by accident: how long they are. They're so thick. How strong they look. How much humanity they hold. "Take some rest, Levi."

A final squeeze on his hand, which Levi receives but doesn’t respond, and he hears the door close gently.

A squad for him. 

Something like what Farlan and Isabel were to him, his perfect comrades. 

But no one will ever be like them.

Nobody ever…

He lies on his stomach, determined to sleep despite how uncomfortable he feels from the heat and sweat. 

Every day it hurts a little less, he understands. He's getting over it.

Clinging to pain is pointless, not when time is this severe, not when even the greatest of pleas will slow it down.

What he sees in front of him is the end of the mourning. It's there, under an imaginary sun, embodied in Erwin Smith.

There's nothing left to do but walk, then. 

That way, their deaths won't be in vain.

.

.

.

The next morning, Erwin leaves his room at 7:30, longing for a coffee, still worried about Levi, but also in a good mood because of the talk they had. 

Nothing makes him happier than sharing something so meaningful with the people he appreciates the most.

Nothing moves him more than thinking about the truth that lies beyond itself. 

He goes to the kitchen to make coffee and take it to his office but stops when he sees Levi in the hallway.

"What…?"

Levi is dressed in his cleaning clothes over his uniform: gloves, scarf on his head, scarf on his neck, a broom in his hand and a bucket of water in the other, in which he also carries other items. He looks spotless, both he and his attire.

He looks like new.

As if he had never been sick. 

"You should be on the bed," Erwin says. He tries to be stern, the concern he expresses is not feigned, but something in his voice doesn’t sound convinced.

It's just that Levi…

"I'm recovered, blondie - I'm fine. The flu up here isn't half as threatening as the ones in the Underground. I'll go clean your office; last night I forgot to tell you to clean it too."

Without further ado, Levi moves forward. Erwin tries to say something.

He does nothing, he just stands there in the middle of the hallway, not understanding how it’s possible that, after that flu, he looks so good.

Shadis appears behind him.

"How can he have recovered so quickly?" he asks Erwin: the commander's voice denotes the same level of intrigue. "Perhaps, after all, he's a laboratory experiment. That would explain a lot of things."

Shadis moves forward as Levi did before. At the end of the hallway, he turns around and calls him.

"To my office, Erwin: we have to write countless letters to our dear benefactors in the Capital today. Go on, I know you're dying out of enthusiasm!"

Erwin, in the distance, stares at the commander's dark gaze.

How could he recover like that…?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! ♥
> 
> About the book: of course I took inspiration from Armin and that book his grandfather had. I mean, if that book leaked out, then other books could have leaked out. Although, unlike Armin's book, this one isn't illegal.
> 
> Why? And why didn't anyone try to ban it in the past? Didn't anyone realize it was a little dangerous to let that information out? You will know soon (?). 
> 
> I exaggerated the titles a bit so that you could recognize them (?), mostly as a kind of joke.
> 
> (Yes, I make bad jokes. I'm a potential Erwin XD)
> 
> The next chapter is the beginning of a situation that I consider to be the best of what I have written. I'm so excited, the next five chapters mean a lot to me, I put a ton of heart into each one. :')
> 
> I hope you don't get too bored reading. Thank you for being nice to me, for your good wishes during the quarantine and so on. Thank you for being on the other side with me! From now on I won't have to make such long notes for some chapters, so I'll stop stealing your time. 
> 
> Thank you!


	15. XV

**XV**

The New Year is three days away, and the barracks are emptier than on the Night of Hope. There are only 24 soldiers left.

His mind, meanwhile, is working faster than ever.

Erwin sighs at the papers he checks; after completing 12 reports of several pages about the annual activities of the Survey Corps, the commander has delegated him to write a total of 27 letters himself. Many are to financiers, others to Military Police and Garrison's officers, including one to commander Zackly. The subjects are varied: good wishes for the coming year, requests for hearings, claims for supplies. He's been busy with this for three days.

He's exhausted.

Because he has spent the last few days in the commander's office, he hasn't had time to see other people. He only saw Hanji during dinner, he crossed paths with Moblit in the hallway…

He saw Levi just this morning. Like the last time, he was ready to clean up.

"Do you want me to clean your room? I don't have much to do, it's too snowy to clean the windows. Accept or I'll steal that weird product you put in your hair. Don't forget my former profession."

Erwin accepted with some shyness.

"Sure."

"Why do you put on that face, the one of a teenager in that difficult age? I won't check your stuff, don't worry."

He left right after saying that, carrying in his hands a huge amount of cleaning products, walking with that absolute elegance that only belongs to him. 

How could he recover so quickly? Erwin saw Ilse two hours ago when he went to get a painkiller for the commander's headache. She received him in the infirmary with her usual enthusiasm.

"I'm still very surprised at Levi's recovery, sir!" she said as she looked for the painkiller in a cabinet at the back of the infirmary. "My parents are doctors, I've seen sick people all my life, but I've never seen anything like this!"

He neither, and even if perhaps it shouldn't surprise him that Levi recovered quickly given his excellent physical condition, it's still striking. Because of…

He rubs his temple with annoyance when he stains an almost finished letter with ink: the stain is so big that now the sheet is useless. 

It's Levi in his life - something that's covering up everything.

But in the best way possible, not like this ink.

A part of him wants to get lost in that concept, in that idea of Levi as that stain that doesn't dirt, but cleans; another part, the one that always gets its way, wants to refocus on his obligations.

Since the Night of Hope, Levi has become, almost violently, in his most recurrent thought, in that presence that sweetens all his senses every night, when he closes his eyes and escapes to a land where using his imagination and stop working in pursuit of feeling, of _being,_ is allowed. But he can't get lost.

He can't, he shouldn't, not in this context.

He won't.

He throws the sheet into the basket and prepares for rewriting. 

Something is moving fast in front of him.

He looks at him: Commander Shadis writes a long letter with a certain passion, or that denotes the aggressiveness of his hand; his eyes, always severe, look more transparent than usual. It's the look that the commander has when they return to the walls. 

It's the look of a defeated man.

Without realizing that he's being watched, Shadis puts an end to the letter after writing three pages. Finally, he puts it in an envelope that already has a name on the front.

Carla J.

That name looks familiar, but he's not sure. If he's not wrong, this is not the first time he has seen the commander writing a letter to that person.

Exasperated at noticing that he's getting distracted once again, hating that he has had so much trouble focusing lately, Erwin rewrites the letter he ruined. 

If he didn't ask him to write it, then it's personal, not professional. Maybe it's…

"I'll spend New Year's Eve in Shiganshina."

Erwin looks at him again: the commander looks even more defeated than when they return to the walls after a disastrous expedition. Nevertheless, he holds his gaze.

What a mysterious man. Keith Shadis, the one with the intimidating looks, the fallen shoulders, the silences that so many words seem to scream.

"Besides," he continues, "I've enslaved you at this desk for the last few days for a reason: you'll be the new commander after the next expedition in March. There was no point in taking over things that will only be your responsibility from that point on. What I'm doing is delegating everything to you: I'm giving you the command, Erwin, because there's no time to lose, not if we want to make a progress in this war."

When he gave him the news of his promotion, Erwin repressed a smile.

Today, with the date confirmed, he feels like he's going to explode.

"I'll leave at midnight tonight and come back on January 1st," adds Shadis. "Try to have some fun in New Year, it's important to relax once in a while; don't be like your commander."

"Understood," Erwin replies, always restrained, always serious, always showing a peace that he's far from feeling. 

Especially now, with a sheet almost completely covered with ink in the depths of his heart, in which only the center remains clean; an inverted stain. 

Levi, surrounded by all his miseries, keeping the human that he is alive.

The human that he will have to stop being sooner than he thought if he wants to fulfill his dream.

.

.

.

Erwin's room is the one on the left in a long hallway that only has two doors. In the end, there is the commander's room; the other squad leaders' rooms are in the opposite hallway. Inside, the room is certainly small and notoriously austere. Seen from the door, it has a closet and a window on the right, a desk and two bookcases on the left, a stove in one corner, a mirror in the other. 

The bed at the end, in the middle.

It took him two hours to clean the filth in the bookcases (the bastard didn't do what he was told, he didn't clean up; he'll throw it in his face as soon as he can when old Shadis releases him from those responsibilities), but now the room shines after the cleaning. Everything was very tidy except the books which don't fit into the bookcases and lie scattered in different corners of the room. But there was a lot of dust accumulated in certain parts. 

He's pleased to notice that, despite the obvious lack of maintenance, Erwin is very clean and tidy. He expected no less from someone who seemed to spend more time than the prudent on the tidiness of his hair. But it feels good.

It makes him feel good.

As he collects the cleaning supplies, Levi can't help but look at the bed: the sheets, white, are covered by a grey bedspread, like most in the barracks, although Erwin's bed is a little bigger than the others.

It looks huge.

Because it's empty.

He breathes deeply without realizing it, without giving himself the right to do so, when he feels goosebumps; the bed seems to call him, to invoke him, to invite him to sink into it.

He tries to evade the thought, but he can't; he leaves the cleaning supplies aside and lies his eyes on the bed, which becomes larger and larger, and captures the totality of his attention: it's clean, its surroundings are clean.

Erwin is cleaner than he could ever hope to be being so fucked up by life. 

Having recovered from the flu, he obsessively cleaned every environment he could inside the base. Even four eyes’ lab, damn it! He cleaned up everything he could with a single intention in addition to the inexorable need to keep Erwin's environment as clean as possible.

He did it so as not to think about the dawn of his birthday, that dawn which the flu interrupted, but which has now returned, ready to torture him with every little memory.

Looking at the bed, he feels how, inside, a pyre sets on fire with just a spark. Just by doing this, by looking at the bed and feeling it so empty. 

He didn't suck Erwin's dick, he didn't get fucked, either. He didn't even offer to grope or be groped; Erwin didn't insist. He respected him, and thinking about that respect pleases and displeases him at the same time, it does it for reasons he doesn't want to analyze. It's not his style, after all. 

To overanalyze his shit is to give it too much value. 

Sex has always disgusted him. With Farlan he relaxed, he had a good time, but he didn't feel this way by any means.

This is a thousand times more…

Pigs are monsters, he says to himself to condemn this filthy situation. Sex turns men into the worst kind of monster. 

There is no way that this is happening to him, that this unknown pyre sets on fire, that instincts he doesn't know are activated by pointing to the person they are pointing to, the perfect one.

He exhales extra air, breathes as deep as he can.

No, he mustn't think anymore.

Maybe it's that he doesn't like to feel in debt. But what makes him uncomfortable the most is Erwin Smith's respect.

He appreciates it, he does of course.

But what a disgusting discomfort it makes him feel.

Because sex creates monsters and monsters never…

"Shit."

He shouldn't have let him touch him.

But how much he liked it that he did.

The hair going back and forth, the hands clinging to his legs, the fingers sunk into the flesh of his thighs, the mouth burning his most sensitive spots.

How much he liked it that he…

The door opens; Levi turns around by mere reflection, having no idea how long he has been staring at the empty bed. 

Erwin smiles at him as he closes the door.

"Wow…" Look at the room from end to end, visibly surprised. "Levi, it looks like another room."

"Don't exaggerate," Levi replies as he takes the cleaning supplies once more. "It was dusty and you have extra books or missing bookcases, but it wasn't that bad."

Erwin laughs. Like every time he hears him do it, Levi feels some kind of satisfaction he can hardly bear, which is too big for his body.

"Has your concept of me as a cleaner improved?" Erwin asks.

"A little, but I'll decide if you're really good or not when we do the big clean up in January."

Erwin nods. Soon, his face shows a different seriousness than the one they have with each other.

"About January, I still have things to tell you, remember? I'm sorry I haven't been able to meet with you in the last few days. Do you have a minute?"

Levi frowns. Anyway, he nods.

"Yeah, but not here."

Because they're locked up next to that bed.

Because he can't stand to look at it anymore. 

Erwin accepts. Half an hour later, in the usual office, between plans of strategies and endless reports, Levi is sitting on the other side of Erwin's desk, who, using the cups Levi has brought once more, serves him that tea from Orvud he gave him as a present. Levi hasn't had a chance to try it out because of the overwork Erwin has had to face in the last few days. He takes a sip.

Exquisite.

"Isn't it tasty?" Erwin says after drinking too. He smiles at him from behind the cup.

"Not bad." Levi leaves the cup on the desk and crosses his legs. Tension makes him uncomfortable, it's something he doesn't quite understand but which he finds shitty. Maybe it's about this, that it's the first time they're alone in several days. "But tell me, what about January?"

Erwin, who goes from smiles and trust to the seriousness that surrounds him when he works, drinks a little more tea before responding:

"Between January and February, the high command of the Survey Corps meets with our financiers, merchants and high society of the Capital."

"Pigs."

"Pigs that allow us to keep surveying." A pause. Both drink tea and give their time with astonishing naturalness. There is a comfort in the air, something that feels good, that flows perfectly between them. A clarity, cleanliness that makes Levi feel comfortable with everything around them in the office where what happened on the morning of his birthday should never happen again, which in turn makes him feel that discomfort that is opposed to everything he perceives. It's as if his senses are more alert than usual, as if he manages to perceive Erwin much more than he wants to, as if he needs to feel uncomfortable even though he enjoys the comfort. "The commander will send me in his name, it will be the first time I go without him, at least officially."

"Uh-huh. What about me?"

Erwin looks at him, he does it with an intolerable stare, and Levi finds himself blinking more than necessary before the blue. 

"You will be my companion."

Levi's eyes narrow.

"Me? With those pigs?"

"You as the one everyone is talking about, even the press: humanity's strongest soldier. People are starting to get excited about you, Levi; you're very popular, much more than you think, and if you come with me, well, it'll be a great contribution to our cause."

Levi finishes his tea. He leaves the cup on the desk and rests his back against the backrest. 

"You'll take me as our advertising."

"I'll take you as what you are: our greatest hope."

The statement, together with the stare, that as blue as the sky of that free world outside, overwhelms Levi. He tells himself, as quickly as possible, that this mustn't happen to him, to feel overwhelmed, moved, not by the faith that Erwin places in his strength as if he could do something without his guidance.

When he's the real hope.

"If you say it's for the good of the corps, then I won't object. But don't ask me to be nice or to praise them, to pretend to like them when they disgust me. I won't do it."

"If you did, I'd be disappointed." Erwin finishes his tea too. He runs the cup aside and rests his arms crossed on the desk. "Geniuses are not ordinary people, that's why they stand out and are so far from our understanding. I like you to be yourself, Levi. I admire your character, your coolness at the right times, the practicality with which you work and how seriously you take the role of the Survey Corps as that truth-seeking organization."

Rejecting any possibility of overthinking those words, more seduced than prudent by the conviction shown by Erwin's eyes, Levi looks to the side. 

He clicks his tongue when he crosses his arms. 

"Cheesy old man."

He looks at him again; Erwin smiles.

"A little bit." He gets up from his seat, walks around the table at a slow pace, stops right behind Levi, who has goosebumps on the back of his neck. He swallows a sigh that he mustn't release, not now. "I need to tell you one more thing."

"What?" Levi asks although he can already imagine.

Because those goosebumps on the back of his neck are not in vain.

Because he feels like the eyes are a mouth.

Because the pyre burns inside him and nothing can put it out.

"About what happened that night…"

"Forget it."

"I can't…"

Levi squeezes his eyes shut when he hears Erwin. He can't fucking forget it either. He can't be that foolish; it's time to assume it. He has tried, he's given all of himself to think about something else. 

He has failed. All the time, every day, he has. Because the pyre didn't set on fire when he looked at Erwin's bed; it did so long ago, so long ago that Levi has no idea when it happened. 

Being unable to forget it will end up being a problem.

Or it already is, actually, judging by the way he's getting goosebumps to this point, not from a caress, but a simple look.

"I'm not asking you for something, if that's what you imagine," Erwin says in that voice he uses to explain battle tactics. "I'm just… trying to be honest with you and also with myself." Erwin puts a hand on his right shoulder. He doesn't squeeze, he doesn't caress, he doesn't brush his skin but his jacket, but it's as if the hand is between his legs, gently squeezing the epicenter of his arousal. That's how intense it is, for Levi, to feel Erwin's hand on him.

Yeah, it got out of hand.

It was a mistake.

Not having a shred of regret is what makes this situation so complex.

"Just say it, don't be so dramatic."

Erwin squeezes his shoulder with sublime kindness. Levi feels the tension settling in every corner of his body. 

"Thank you, Levi: it was a very special moment for me. Thank you for letting me share it with you."

Levi turns around; Erwin leaves him, though the look still holds him; the blue eyes don't just look at him.

They devour him.

"I don't like this shit," Levi says with the worst face he has, the one of smelling shit, the one Kenny taught him so well to put in front of people.

"What do you mean?" Erwin asks, as calm as he is even outside the walls as if he were watching the scene from the future, knowing everything that will happen.

Erwin Smith, always ten steps ahead. 

"To thank me for something for which you received nothing in return as if a blowjob had been something important, meaningful to you. It was just a dick: I don't like it when you exaggerate."

Erwin smiles; it's the smile of someone touched.

"I think you have a misconception about that sort of thing."

"Do I?"

They look at each other. These stares with which they do so warms the air around them. One body and the other cry out for each other.

It was a mistake, yes.

A beautiful one.

"Sex can be many things. I'm not an expert, Levi; I have less experience than I dare admit at my age, but…"

"That's a stupid prejudice: you're a soldier, not a guy who goes from bar to bar and from brothel to brothel; you don't have as much experience as someone with another kind of life, of course."

And the same applies to himself, adds Levi in his head, someone who has cared little, very little about sex.

At least until the appearance of this bastard who turns him on just by looking at the back of his fucking neck.

Erwin smiles at him once more. How daily this becomes to Levi, that Erwin smiles at him.

The same Erwin who never smiles at others.

"From my perspective, sex is about something else; it's about allowing yourself, through intimacy, to show facets of yourself that you would never be able to undress in front of anyone else, which requires a level of trust that, with certain experiences behind you, is not easy to achieve. Sex is, in short, an equal exchange of trust in a safe and healthy place for those who practice it together."

_"Thanks for trusting me, Levi… It means a lot to me."_

_"Why?"_

_"Because I'm fond of you, you idiot. Are you going to ask me so many explanations?!"_

Levi doesn't realize how his face deforms by Farlan's memory until Erwin drops the smile and shows his concern.

"Are you okay?"

Levi turns his back on him.

"Your perspective on such a dirty act is as idealistic as that of an old romantic. I'm not surprised, not at you," he says. "That you thank me for letting you suck my dick seems like an exaggeration, but come on, if you see it in such a symbolic way then I accept your thanks. You're welcome, Erwin; you're welcome for letting you suck my dick."

.

.

.

 _Erwin_ , finally.

 _Erwin_ and nothing else.

 _Erwin_ , the human, the one who has a dream, the one who is _Eyebrows,_ the one who is selfish, the one who is worthless.

 _Erwin_ , the one who must sleep if he wants to be the best commander in the history of the Survey Corps. 

Levi's back, the wings on his jacket, his shortness, his soft white skin that contains the most extraordinary strength he has ever seen.

 _Erwin_ , the human, refuses to sleep. He refuses because of this back, because of everything it evokes.

But he has to choose between Levi and the rest, he understands. Because twelve commanders have failed to move their humanity from the cause and he can't afford that mistake.

He has to move his humanity, the one that lives with Levi as his main purpose.

He has to move it until it doesn't get in his way; he has to force it into a deep sleep from which it can't escape. 

Not without sadness, one that once worried him not to feel for Marie by leaving her behind, Erwin realizes that that will soon no longer be his name.

He's going to be _the commander_.

Whether he wants to or not, that's the way it's going to be.

"Thank you very much for that moment of absolute trust," he says after a tense, prolonged silence, "I'll never forget it…"

He turns his back on him as he feels his throat tighten, as the lump that forms there turns into the same old anguish.

"It's a dick, you shouldn't care so much."

"I shouldn't, but I do care. And it's not about your body … It's the trust you had in me."

"Whatever. It won't happen again, not here, not on Mitras, not anywhere. I won't be a distraction; we're fighting for something important; we don't come here to make stupid teenage dramas."

Levi stands up. Erwin doesn't move from his place, doesn't look at him for a moment. He barely notices he's gone when he hears the door slam. He sure made him uncomfortable bringing that up; he doesn't blame him.

Urgently, he opens the top drawer of his desk. He takes out the liquid that calms him down him and takes a good sip.

Why is this happening to him? When did his self-control get out of hand?

Desperate, he tries to understand what he did wrong, what he miscalculated. He has moved skillfully in all areas of the Survey Corps he has been assigned to, giving everything in exchange for being the commander who achieves what no one else has ever achieved.

To get the truth, the truth that is beyond itself.

When the commander told him he would resign, he repressed a smile, yes. Now, he wants to explode, and scream, and cry, and let himself be choked with no regrets because of the anguish that is caressing him right now with solid, seductive hands. 

To get closer to the indomitable soldier that Levi represented, he tried to do it as with the others, from the mere companionship between soldiers, comrades joined by the same fight. As with Hanji, Mike, Nanaba…

Levi could only be reached by being human. 

He has awakened that human that Erwin managed so well to contain for years. It's the storm that keeps ripping him apart.

That's what he did wrong.

Approaching Levi from his mere humanity. 

That was his mistake, that is the reason for this crisis that doesn't stop growing, the attraction he feels and that he no longer has a way to stop symbolizing his desire of not to let himself die in the hands of the position that will allow him to fulfill his dream. 

The contradiction that allows only one thing.

A choice.

He can never be with him again. 

He never will.

Because he won't be _Erwin_ anymore, but the commander. 

Because that's the best choice he can make.

Sacrifices are necessary to achieve impossible goals. By putting _Erwin_ to sleep, the commander will be ready to fight.

The stain will disappear and there will be nothing left on that imaginary sheet that represents him, so emaciated by guilt.

As gray as his silent heart is right now before the cups Levi didn't take with him.

In the face of feelings that no one had ever awaken in him until now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading this delusion that is doing so much good to my peace of mind. In these difficult times, I wish you all the best. ♥
> 
> Thank you so much for being such nice people to me and my fic. Sometimes I get very nervous and discouraged, unfortunately I'm pessimistic, but it always makes me smile to share it with you.
> 
> As my dear Gustavo Cerati would say, gracias totales. ♥
> 
> *guitar sounds*


	16. XVI

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for all the mistakes, I hope to make it better! ♥

**XVI**

New Year's Eve. 23 soldiers dine at six tables. At one, there's only one person.

Levi, humanity's strongest soldier.

At the main table, Erwin is accompanied by Hanji, Moblit, and Gelgar. From the table on his right, he notices how Ilse smiles at him, not without a certain shyness. He looks at the table on his left, and Dita smiles at him too.

He looks at Levi but gets nothing in return. Only indifference.

As it should be.

He takes a deep breath; time to concentrate on eating. He doesn't talk, he doesn't see, he doesn't do anything to socialize; the meat and the salad are the only things that exist for him. When he finishes eating, he concentrates on the wine; he drinks three glasses, and at midnight, at the beginning of the year 845, he toasts with the rest of the table and leaves.

It's the end.

As he leaves, he looks at Levi for the last time; he doesn't look back at him.

Levi tells him, thus, that he will be as professional as he, consumed by his yearning humanity, that which doesn't want to sleep, much less die, is not being.

The only person that seems to trouble with that it’s him.

Precisely him.

He moves forward by trying to breathe regularly.

Yes, it's the end.

.

.

.

"Levi! Happy New Year!" Hanji toasts with him, drinks, leaves the glass on the table that only he occupies and scratches his head. Levi stays in his place, without answering any of their gestures. In the end, Hanji looks at the hand with which they scratched him. "I can't believe you didn't kill me! Nice!" they say as they hold their glass again. "It's great to be your friend."

"I respect the taste of your soup; it's the only reason I have to let myself be touched by you."

"Oh, always so tough! Anyway… I hope you kill more titans this year! You'll do great, even though I don't want to see them die, they're just so…!" Hanji pats him on the back; Levi doesn't react. "Have a nice year."

"Same to you, four eyes. Try not to destroy the base with your experiments."

"I promise to try not to!"

Hanji leaves. Levi sees, from his seat, how Moblit greets them with more wine at the table.

It's better this way.

No one else dares to greet him; alone, he contemplates nothing but the absence. 

He saw everything. He saw how Erwin toasted and left without saying a word, he saw the seriousness of his face during the whole dinner, he saw the lack of communication with the rest, he saw how he only nodded to Hanji and the rest. 

Present or absent, Erwin hasn't made a difference: he wasn't there the whole night. 

Why? 

He takes a deep breath. To give importance to his shit is to give it value, is to make it special, is to be foolish and stupid.

It's a mistake of epic dimensions, as big and as disgusting as a titan.

If Erwin is full of shit now, if he acted that way, if he was absent despite being present, he must have his reasons. Erwin must take care of his shit and concentrate on what is his business in this context.

It's none of Levi’s business. It fucking isn't, and he won't be the one wasting time making a big deal out of it.

No. No way.

Without further ado, he decides to drink a little more wine before leaving. It should help him sleep a little longer than he usually does, three hours instead of two, maybe. Although he will have to drink at least three bottles to achieve something like that; wine never gets him drunk. 

If only…

"Levi, excuse me… H-Happy New Year! I hope… you'll continue to be our inspiration!"

Levi looks at his interlocutor when she finishes: it's Ilse, and although he can see her shyness, above all he can see her honesty.

She is serious, talks from her genuine admiration.

"Happy New Year, Freckles. I hope you can get new books soon," he answers her dryly, although there is enough warmth in his words to make Ilse respond with a smile as honest as her good wishes. 

"I'm still amazed at how quickly you recovered. Has that ever happened to you before?"

What kind of question is that? Levi pretends to ignore her, to leave the conversation in the middle, but the curiosity in her eyes is so big that he sees himself answering before he decides to do so:

"I've never been sick for more than two days."

Ilse's jaw drops a bit by surprise.

"It must be a matter of heredity. Surely your family is in good physical condition!"

Sensitive subject, the most sensitive that anyone can dare mention to him. Levi lies by nodding.

If it was like Ilse says, if it was something about heredity, she…

Apparently, his awkwardness is evident, as Ilse, after nervously swallowing, changes the subject:

"Did you get a chance to read the book?"

Levi drinks wine before answering. He doesn't look at her at all.

"I read four stories. The one about the girl and the pigs seemed absurd to me, but the others were okay, I guess."

"Which ones are you missing?"

"I don't remember all the titles. I didn't read the one about the princess."

"Didn't you read that one?"

"No. I'm not interested in romance."

Because he doesn't understand it and, for that, he doesn't care about it.

Ilse's freckles stand out in a different way when her cheeks blush.

"It's very, very nice… You should give it a chance! And if you don't like it, well, reading something that bores us helps us to sleep. I'm afraid you don't sleep much! I-It could…"

Levi raises an eyebrow when he hears her. Apparently, judging by the shyness of the last part of her speech, Ilse feels she has crossed some kind of line. 

What she doesn't know is that she didn't do so by that, by giving him a simple piece of advice.

But by the other thing, by mention the fucking heredity that didn't do any good.

"Good advice, I'll keep it in mind."

Ilse smiles at him for the last time. The freckles are still red when she leaves.

After having two glasses of wine, eager to get to his room and sleep, Levi feels out of breath, as if something was disturbing him behind his back. Uncomfortable, he leaves the dining room and enters the dark hallways of the base.

He stops at the foot of the stairs: if he climbs four floors…

_"Levi!"_

_"Bro!"_

He hasn't been to the terrace since that night, with Farlan and Isabel. 

Since the last starry sky that he saw with them.

Looking at the stairs, he remembers that scene. How much hope there was in their eyes, how much they wanted to live in a world that was a little fairer, to leave that miserable life behind and enjoy all the tranquility they could find outside. He wanted nothing more than to kill Erwin Smith and walk away with them. 

His family.

Looking at the sky as he did with them that night, between wine and laughs, transparent thanks to absolute trust.

Nothing he wanted more than that.

Everything has changed. Now, it's Erwin Smith who has allowed him to understand things from another perspective. His life shouldn't be limited to survival, as in his days in the Underground; now, he can use his strength for a greater good, to help people, to seek the truth that will free humanity from its prison. He can make a difference from his place, not just enjoy living on the next step of the road to freedom.

But nothing has changed, he discovers while, with his eyes, he climbs step by step. He looks at one, looks at the next one, and understands his situation completely.

He still wants to be transparent. He still wants to trust someone with whom he could have a bond like the one he had with those he has lost along the way. 

But the only person with whom he would like to bond…

He’s out of breath again. He goes to his room, wraps himself in his coat and returns to the same foot of the stairs. He looks at the steps, again, his lungs burning, empty.

He climbs.

He arrives at the terrace covered by his hood and with his eyes focused on the snow that falls from the cloudy sky. There are no more stars; Farlan and Isabel are dead.

But there is still someone.

Erwin, standing at the edge demarcated by stone bricks, has been there for some time, or so it seems to Levi judging by the amount of snow he has on his shoulders, over his green coat with the wings of freedom on its back, the official coat for meetings with the high commands, hearings, and galas.

Just by seeing him, his breath returns.

Why?

He walks towards the edge; if Erwin hears his steps, which is possible given the noise his shoes make against the frost and the stone, he doesn't give it away since he never turns around. He only looks at him when Levi stops on his right with his eyes on the open field, the walls in the background as a reminder of why they are breathing.

To know what's beyond.

"We have to do the cleanup in two days, you can't get sick," Levi tells him.

Erwin laughs with his usual decorum and brevity.

It's still a laugh, at least.

"I won't be much help, anyway. You'll be the most helpful, Levi."

He takes a deep breath. Maybe he shouldn't due to the cold weather which is starting to freeze his fingers, his nose, all the skin that is not covered, but he can't help it.

Something, breathing this cold air, feels necessary. 

Good.

"But no one will follow the orders of a retired thug who didn't go to the Training Corps before to enter this nut house. If I want them to obey me so I can explain to them how to clean up properly, I need you, so do me a favor and take a shit and go to sleep right now."

Another laugh. Brief, modest.

Sad.

Levi looks at Erwin out of the corner of his eye: he’s looking at the sky with the same face with which he read the children's tale to him when he was sick, with the same hope, with that childish thing demarcating his gestures.

But something is different.

It's the aura of sadness that surrounds him.

"All right, I'm leaving," Erwin replies.

They look at each other. Erwin nods as he says goodbye; Levi crosses his arms. Erwin walks away with slow, silent steps despite the frost and the stone. 

Levi is out of breath again.

"By the way, what were you doing here alone? Were you falling down to get up? Because if that was the case, the snow will make you slip when you try to get up."

Erwin stops half a meter from the door. He doesn't turn around.

"I was saying goodbye," he says.

Levi turns his back on the open field as he faces Erwin.

"To what?"

"You said it: it's my duty to separate my feelings from my mission, I must do so in order to give security to others. I'll be commander in March, Keith has already confirmed it to me. It's time to say goodbye to the feelings that hinder my mission."

"Huh?" Levi whispers, out of breath once again. "What about your cheesiness that morning? You told me that I must keep my heart full so that I have something to deliver out there or some such nonsense."

"That's the idea I tried to convey."

"You did, yeah. Do you not apply to yourself the advice you give to your subordinates? That’s absurd; your advice is not bad at all."

"It's not the same."

"I thought we were all under the same conditions here. Commander and private; titans don't distinguish military ranks when they are hungry."

Erwin doesn't answer; under the snow, the only thing that illuminates him is the weak light of the night, that of this moon that appears just behind the cloudy sky. The snow falls gently around him, giving another kind of beauty to the whole picture. The shades are cold, as cold as the winter they are in; something about Erwin Smith, even with his fallen shoulders, looks different despite the surroundings.

He's like a sun in the middle of the midnight, the flame that stays alive despite the darkness that surrounds it. 

"I'll take full responsibility for every death," Erwin says after a remarkable silence. The words make Levi feel colder than the flakes falling on his head covered by the hood. "It's you, all of you, who must stay alive; it's me who must bear the weight of our sacrifice."

Levi always knows what to say; if he doesn't, he's capable of saying anything to get out of a conversation. Even though his nature is one of eternal awkwardness before the merely human, something always comes out of him.

It's the first time in a long, long time that he's deprived of words, of voice, of a sufficiently coherent response given the nature of the conversation. Because he can remain silent, he can do it in a thousand different situations, but not like this, he can' t go blank.

Out of breath, out of what he needs the most right now.

Erwin laughs in response to his silence; Levi's blood boils at the sound of it. Then Erwin turns his face towards him; he’s smiling, his mouth is smiling, but his eyes look as dull as night.

His eyes, those that always look like the sky, are the midnight and nothing else.

"I have a dream," he says in a low voice, although Levi hears him perfectly one meter away from him. "If I want to fulfill it, I must sacrifice everything in return. I can't afford to give up, not now, not when I have come this far; I must become the one the situation calls for.”

“And who does the situation call for?”

“A heartless demon.”

“And what will you do to stop having it? Will you tear it out?”

The question erases Erwin's smile.

"It'll be consumed a little more each day," he assures, and he turns his back on Levi, who feels the inexorable need to shake him. To dare to speak to him like that…! "Only then I'll feel at peace."

Levi gets nervous for no reason. His blood is boiling a little more every second.

"At peace with what?"

"With the idea of someone like you, a genius of unprecedented talent, following someone like me." Another laugh; Levi clenches one fist to suppress the violence that those words inspire in him. "I must work hard to deserve an honor like this, Levi… I must work very, very hard not to make the mistake that twelve commanders have made."

"Which one?" Levi mumbles.

Erwin's shoulders fall even more. His hands, which up to now were fists, fall as well.

"Don't separate my feelings from our mission. If I want to make a difference for the sake of humanity, so that humanity can regain all that has been taken from it, that's what I must do, I must separate, not pretend to do so."

Erwin takes three more steps. He holds on to the door frame with his right hand, bows his head, and Levi notices his pulse trembling.

"Erwin…"

The hand squeezes the frame so tightly that the veins are marked under the skin.

Like when he held his thighs, his fingers sunk into his flesh, he sunk into his mouth.

Clean.

Beautiful.

"I swear that one day I'll deserve your strength, Levi. I'll work hard." Erwin leaves the frame and turns around for the last time. His eyes, dull, are the darkest of nights.

Just like that, he's gone.

Levi doesn't notice he has raised his right hand towards him until he sees him disappear into the darkness. 

He shakes his arm to get rid of the snow, he warms his hands by rubbing them against his thighs, which are shaking from the cold, from being out of breath.

From absence. 

What is this pain that burns him up inside? He turns towards the open field, looks at it under his feet, stained with snow, grey and not white. 

He looks at the sky; on the sadness that expresses he finds the answer.

He's outraged.

But why?!

An icy wind freezes his skin. He hugs himself under the coat, he hugs himself more tightly than he needs to shaking just like on his birthday, that time when Erwin had assured him that blood didn't seem to be flowing through his veins.

The cold…

.

.

.

_It's not bad._

_The hands that hold his buttocks, the hips that thrust him, the mouth that breathes on the back of his neck. It's not bad, no._

_It feels good._

_The hips accelerate more and more, as does the breathing; the hands that hold him, sweaty, squeeze his buttocks more tightly._

_He clenches his teeth; inside his body, when he receives the person who penetrates him, pain and pleasure seem to be the same, two faces of the same sensation, of this enjoyment that he never thought he would find here, like this, with the person who penetrates him one, two, a thousand times._

_The one who, despite penetrating him so much, doesn't do it enough._

_A voice warns him:_ almost _; he does it almost without a voice, suffocated. Levi closes his eyes, breathless._

_What fills him, when Farlan shouts over his shoulder, is the sweetest warmth he has ever felt inside his body._

_Perhaps, also within his heart._

_"Levi, damn it. That was awesome! It's so tight…" Farlan leaves him, but not the warmth. Levi perceives how the body that presses him against the bed falls on his right. "Are you asleep? Why don't you answer me?" A silence; a hand holds one of his wrists. "Levi… Are you okay? Did I hurt you?!"_

_Levi realizes he's been holding his breath for a long time. He breathes deeply, and Farlan doesn't hesitate to do so._

_He pulls him towards him, lays him on his chest, hugs him._

_"Did it hurt? I won't forgive myself if I hurt you! I didn't see blood… Tell me something, hey!"_

_"I'm fine, stop asking me stupid questions."_

_"Oh, well. You just scared me! You don't tend to keep quiet… Give me a little time to recover and I'll let you do it! I guess I didn't make you cum… Should I have touched your dick? How much can you stimulate a man by putting it on? I don't know much about these things."_

_"Neither do I, I know more about women than men."_

_"Same, I think."_

_Farlan shuts up. They remain silent long enough to make it seem like whole minutes have passed._

_A hand begins to caress his shoulder with a lovely shyness; an arm presses him against the chest on which he's lying._

_"You don't stop shaking, Levi. Are you cold?"_

_Actually, no, he doesn't._

_It's not because of the cold; it's because of something else, though he doesn't understand what it is._

_The hand tickles. Levi sighs against Farlan's chest. He should laugh, perhaps, because tickling causes laughter in his childhood memories, but no._

_He can only sigh, and shake, and feel full of a warmth that he doesn’t understand, that is not physical, that doesn’t relate to the disgusting part of sex._

_But to something cleaner, of a different nature._

_"Levi…" Farlan says in a whisper._

_"What?"_

_"Now that I think about it… I've never seen you like this."_

_Like this?_

_"I don't understand what you mean."_

_"I mean, I've never seen you so… vulnerable? Yeah, that's the word. But not just now; while we were fucking and even before… While we were kissing before we started, you were already like this!"_

_Levi takes a deep breath against his chest._

_Farlan's skin smells good._

_He swallows before to answer._

_"I don't know what the fuck you're talking about."_

_He doesn't realize it, but his body is really shaking, he's doing it in a noticeable, constant way. But it's not the cold, no._

_It's the warmth._

_It's…_

_Farlan releases him, lays on his side, makes him do the same. Laughing, he even drags himself down a little bit on the mattress, to match their heights; Levi is not offended by that._

_With his left arm, Farlan wraps him around his neck; with his right hand, he covers his cheek. The sky-blue eyes stare at him._

_Levi shakes more in response._

_"I've seen you fight, steal, kill; you're the strongest and bravest person I know, but I've never seen you as fragile as you are now."_

_Fragile?_

_Levi tries to let go, although he doesn't know why; Farlan hugs him more and kisses him between the eyes._

_"You idiot, I'm not making fun of you! It's almost a compliment: I didn't know anything was capable of showing another side of you. I thought this side of yours didn't even exist!"_

_"Because all this disgusts me, I don't like it, I hate that…"_

_"Levi, you're like ice, the one that forms in the wastewaters when it's very cold outside; you always seem unbreakable no matter how much shit is around you. Imagine how hard it's to reach you! But you can't live like this forever… I mean, look at you! You're shaking, and your cheeks are red, and you look moved. I feel lucky to be able to see this, that you can share it with me."_

_"Stop that…"_

_"Don't be so hard. Fucking someone isn't just anything. I know you think it's gross, but it's actually nice. Not just because it's pleasant (don't be cynical, I know you liked it! I don't know much about guys fucking guys, but I can tell those things), but because it knocks down even someone like you, who never wants to be broken. It's okay to be vulnerable once in a while, more so in a situation like this, in private and with…"_

_"Stop saying things like…"_

_"Stop trying to freeze yourself again! Enjoy the moment, Levi. Enjoy this side too, okay?"_

.

.

.

The cold, yes.

Levi's hands fall on either side of his body, two fists pointed at the ground. His jaw rises to the dark sky from which the snow comes.

The warmth, that night, was his humanity. It was the vulnerability, the fragility, the sensitivity that Kenny taught him so much to repress in order to survive the injustices of the Underground.

The warmth was what he had left to die before his mother's body.

But no: Farlan had found that warmth inside of him. It hadn't died, not as he thought; it was alive.

He still had feelings that were capable of externalizing all those things that he had always judged to be weak.

But why during sex? Why?

…Maybe, because he's who he is.

It was difficult for him to be vulnerable, it was difficult for him to place that trust in Farlan, it was difficult for him to get carried away. It was difficult to do what Farlan himself said, especially, to let himself exist without ice around him, without protection surrounding his emotions. 

It was difficult for him to allow himself to be vulnerable, but how easy it was from a certain moment to trust, to feel that he could do so, to let Farlan personify, magically, a safe, healthy, ideal place.

That's why he could.

Because Farlan managed to create that place, one in which Levi managed to put aside his disgust for the first time in the exactly right way, the only one possible because of who he is.

Someone whose head will always be fucked up.

Someone who had always considered sex a monster thing, something inhuman: someone who discovered that it could be a different thing, a beautiful one, as long as it was with the right person.

In something like vulnerability, sometimes, lies not a person's weakness, but their strength. Because that level of intimacy requires a lot of strength, more so when it comes to people like him or Erwin, people who carry guilt from childhood, who survive inside the ice because they don't know how to do otherwise. In fact, he has no idea if Erwin is like him, but he is.

The cold is the only thing that helped him survive surrounded by so much shit.

He smiles subtly at the sky. In the book that his mother read to him as a child, there was something very absurd, something that said that people were born from the stars. When they died, they returned there and became a light of an infinite constellation. That book also spoke of another class of stars, those which, with their unusual brightness, stronger than the rest, protected others, those of the most vital points, the stars that shaped the constellation, so that their light would never be extinguished.

If Farlan is somewhere in this sky, behind the grey clouds that darken the surroundings, then he hopes he's seeing him.

He hopes he's thanking him enough for teaching him something so valuable.

No struggle makes sense if there is not a heart that feels in the chest the meaning of victory. 

It's true that Erwin must separate. But to do so it's not true that he must let the other half of himself be consumed. His heart doesn't have to be another victim of the titans.

He clenches his teeth when he bends his head.

He won't allow the heart that guides him to burn out before it reaches its destination. Because it’s that heart the one that most deserves to feel the full joy that freedom will bring to this blinded world.

Because Erwin Smith's heart, the one he has decided to protect even from hell, is the one that deserves the most to beat at the rhythm of victory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. :')
> 
> I wrote this chapter in February. I remember that I was very obsessed with "Release Me" by Hooverphonic; some of what the song conveys is what was left here. I'm listening to it as I write this note right before I update it and yes, it's the song that sums up this chapter.
> 
> A random comment, sorry (?). XD
> 
> I don't have much more to say. I would simply like to thank you with all my heart for every comment you leave me. They fill me with energy, joy, confidence, and the desire to continue putting a lot of love into this fic. With a few words you achieve so much, you make so much magic... You make me so happy! Thank you very much for being so kind to me.
> 
> You have no idea how much I appreciate it. ♥
> 
> Hugs and kisses and lots and lots of love at this particular time in the world. Be well!


	17. XVII

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning!
> 
> In this chapter there are explicit descriptions of the social injustice that prevails in the Underground. I don't know if it's pertinent to warn you, but I prefer to do it just in case.
> 
> If you're sensitive to these kinds of descriptions, please read it carefully. ♥
> 
> And forgive my English, please! I hope to improve soon! ♥

**XVII**

_Humanity locked itself behind the walls of Sheena, Rose, and Maria._

Erwin caresses the paragraph on the book. How much nostalgia; lately, the only reading that manages to calm his anguish is the book that his father used to prepare his classes. It's funny how they wrote that paragraph: to first mention Sheena when Maria is the main wall, the one that contains the most people, the one that is most important to protect…

Surely, it was a nobleman who wrote it. Someone with power who considered the salvation of his class more important than that of the people.

A pig from the Capital, as Levi calls them.

Levi…

He turns the page: he will fulfill his dream even if he has to sacrifice himself in return. 

Only then he will deserve those huge wings. Levi's wings following him. 

Him, yes.

The one who caused the most unfair death.

The one who will cause so many other deaths.

The one who has the gates of hell open before his eyes even now, in the kingdom of life. 

Him, who never…

Someone knocks his door. Sitting at the desk in the corner on the left side of the room, he looks at the light of the only candle he has lit; then he looks at the pocket watch that shows that it’s almost half past one in the early morning. He doesn't have to answer at this hour.

Someone knocks one more time. 

Erwin closes the book gently and gets up from his chair. It must be Hanji, Hanji to insist, to tell him to have some fun, to recommend him not to do the exact opposite of what he always advises the others. There is no way he will listen to them, not today.

He'll open the door, tell them to leave him alone and close the door on them.

He dodges books that are scattered on the floor to reach the door. He opens waiting to see Hanji's glasses.

And no.

He remains silent as his heart races before Levi's silvery eyes, the stoic gesture hiding truths that Erwin has learned to read. 

"Levi, what…?"

Two hands, the strongest he knows, push him into the room. Erwin loses his balance, takes five steps backward against his will; the door slams shut and the key turns twice inside the lock. They look at each other: Levi has his back against the door. Looking serious, with his hands in his pockets, his eyes are a little more droopy than usual.

And it's a lie.

Erwin can't read these eyes. 

"What are you doing?" he asks. Swallows after he does so; he has to keep his composure. 

He has to keep asleep that side of himself that will never deserve anything. 

Levi leaves the door. He takes five steps towards him, moving in that way that always characterizes him, so elegant, imposing, sensual, like a cat in search of its prey.

"Levi, I don't understand what…"

"Stay quiet, blondie: it's your turn to listen. Sit down."

Erwin looks at Levi, then at the books scattered on the floor, then at the candle on his desk, then at his back. He looks at the bed, then at Levi again.

He has to do the right thing. 

"I must sleep," he says, serious, the voice of the future commander in all its absolute splendor, "I can’t hear you now. Tomorrow we can meet in my office and…"

"Stop talking to me like that, you son of a bitch." Levi takes one step forward, and another, and stops just a step away from him. He lifts his jaw and frowns when he looks at him. "You're going to listen to me and you're going to do it now."

Erwin takes a deep breath. He hides his hands behind his back, as when he talks to commander Zackly, and gives his gaze all the coldness he’s capable of expressing.

"You must leave," he says, "really, I can't talk, not today. I have a lot of work tomorrow."

Levi lifts his jaw again.

"I already told you that you're not going to talk; you're going to listen. And if you keep talking to me as if you've never sucked my dick and as if you care about me as much as you care about the guy on your right at the table, the one you didn't talk to all night, well, it'd be a shame if you did, because I get cranky when people are false with me."

Erwin feels his brows trembling. It happens to him when he gets angry and when he gets emotional.

Is it the first one? Is it the second one? 

Is it all?

"Please leave."

"And what will you do if I don't?" Levi asks, putting all his weight on his right leg.

Sublime.

"You have to go."

"Answer first: what are you going to do if I don't?"

He can accuse him of disobeying his squad leader and put him in a cell for a few days for doing so, he can grab him and open the door to throw him into the hallway, he can force him to leave with the most severe tone of voice.

But he does nothing, 

He doesn’t answer, and Levi takes another step forward.

"All right, blondie. Sit down," he commands as he points at the bed. 

Erwin stands still for a moment; the next one, his legs don't obey him when they take two steps backward. He sits down, holds one hand with the other between his knees, waits. Tense, he looks at Levi, above him in the same way they were that bloody day when Magnolia and Church died under one of the worst storms he remembers. Levi threatened him with his blade, that time.

Now, he threatens him with his gaze, with nothing but the silver in his eyes, and Erwin feels more terror than he did under the storm. 

But he doesn’t.

It's not terror. It's something else.

"Listen," Levi says without moving an inch from his place, without changing the position that so much authority conveys. "I understand everything you said up there, that the commander of the lunatics must be The Great Lunatic if he wants to do something for humanity. I understand that you’ll have to send us to die on every expedition, that you’ll have to let go even those closest to you. Mike, Nanaba, Moblit, Hanji. I don't know… Ilse! It could also be me."

Him.

Just to consider it, Erwin feels how, out of anguish, his throat closes completely. 

He’s facing a titan and he has no blades, no horse, no three-dimensional maneuvering equipment. Unable to speak, he’s the most defenseless of men before this living being with immense wings, so breathtaking for only standing before a person bound to hell like him. 

"That's all true, but you're wrong about one thing. Actually, you’re wrong about so many things that I wonder how the one on the terrace is the same Erwin I know, that who is always ten steps ahead, but it doesn't matter, not now." Levi puts his hands on his waist. His frown is even more pronounced than before when he studies Erwin's eyes, which look at him engrossed. "Shall I tell you what you’re doing wrong? Because I won't be kind, understood?"

Voiceless, feeling the guilt spreading in his chest, one born of how little he’s able to forgive himself the slightest mistake, Erwin nods. 

"Okay." Just like that, Levi squats right in front of him. He looks at him with a stare that it feels like a thousand daggers stuck in his eyes, or more. "Did you say no other commander has ever been able to separate their feelings from their mission? Maybe it's true and that's why old Shadis keeps screaming at night. But you're not the only one fighting here, you're not alone in this shitty battle; we're all fighting for the same thing and, as I told you up there, titans don't distinguish military ranks. All they do is eat!"

Surprised, Erwin hears his own laughter, though he soon looks down, ashamed. Levi laughs in his way, meanwhile, like that person who doesn't know how to do so.

"I’ll not allow you to do something stupid that could put us all in danger, Erwin Smith," Levi says later. The blood circulating through Erwin's veins freezes at the sound of those words. He lifts his eyes, looks at Levi - he's serious. "Holding back your emotions completely will only end up hurting us all. Do you know why? Because one day you'll have so much shit inside you that you won't be able to decide for yourself. One day, you'll be one step away from the truth that allows us to break free, one step away from having it in your hands, you'll be there and you won't be able to decide what to do. One day, you'll be so consumed by guilt that you won't be able to choose even your own death! And that will put us all at risk." Levi gets just a little closer to him, without taking his eyes off him for a moment, without giving him any break while, in his veins, Erwin’s blood lies stopped, frozen. "Do you know who taught me all those cheesy things? You! You bastard, who gives the best advice even in the most delicate of situations, like that of your subordinate in front of the decapitated head of the girl he loved as his little sister, but you're not capable of giving yourself good advice, as if your life were worthless, as if we could aspire to win this war without you. Fuck! Without you, we wouldn't even get to Shiganshina!" Levi stands up. He's furious.

Erwin has never seen him like this, not even under the worst of circumstances.

Levi walks to one corner of the room, he walks to the other, and his legs still have that feline elegance, and his hair looks soft as it sways, and his gestures have the most hypnotic, most captivating grace. 

So beautiful.

He wants to agree with him. But no, it's too late.

"Erwin," he says as he stops in front of him. His voice, though calmer, doesn’t lose its severity, "we need you. Not only the commander but the human as well."

"Levi…" he whispers, and he feels his scowl hurt not from anger, no, but from emotion. 

Because he wants to believe him.

Because he doesn't know how to do it, not now, so consumed by stress, pressure, guilt.

Guilt, always. Guilt that protagonist who always plunges him into the shadows. 

But Levi doesn't give up:

"You told me that if I wasn't capable of making my own decisions by sinking into regret, all I had left was to let myself die. Guess what! It applies to you too, so stop being dramatic, we're here for something serious, not to overanalyze our emotions like we're teenagers. There are some very shitty people in this world! People who wouldn't hesitate to kill, rape, torture other people and enjoy it! People who eat with their gold cutlery knowing that there are hungry children under their feet, surrounded by drunks and criminals who will ruin their lives. Those people can do what you want to do because they don't have a shit to offer in their chests! But you have it, Erwin, I'm so sorry… You have it, and I won't let you waste it on childish things!"

Childish…?

"Then what do you want me to do?" Erwin asks with a voice as broken as it’s angry, squeezing his trousers at each knee. He notices how Levi, nervous, looks at the violence his fingers apply on the fabric. "I never played with this. There's nothing I care about more in life than this! I came this far convinced that I could, that I’d make it, and now that I'm about to reach the most important position in this corps, the guilt returns, I'm filled with fear, I'm afraid of letting my father down and all I can do is desire my subordinate as I've never desire anyone, all because, deep inside, I'm a sham and I'm not ready to leave my humanity behind!" Realizing how brutal his honesty has been, Erwin covers his mouth with one of his hands. "I…"

Levi kneels before him.

"We're finally understanding each other," he says with his imperturbable stoicism. 

"What do you mean?" Erwin asks, confused. 

Soon, Levi's eyes look more tired than usual. 

"The day you sucked my dick, you did it for me, remember? You did it because I needed to stop thinking and you, old pervert, couldn't think of a better idea." Blushed, deeply ashamed, Erwin nods. "All right: I believe in you, no one else inside these fucking walls has what it takes to win. Because you’re the hope, you bastard, not me! I'll fight for you as I told you before because I agree that we need The Great Lunatic to win, that you need to be ruthless to be a good commander. But you have a heart, Erwin Smith. You can't pull it out of your chest like you pull out your body hair."

Stunned, Erwin drops the fabric of his pants. He gets lost in Levi's silvery eyes, which shine like two blades in this half-dark room illuminated by a single candle.

"Then what do you think I should do?" he asks, and a revelation makes him speechless.

This is the first time he's asked anyone here for personal advice.

To delegate responsibilities. One. What an almost obscene relief it means to do this, to give in. 

To give up. 

Levi is half smiling. He does it with mockery.

"You've not enough street smarts, if I may say so. You don't know how mean people can be to get what they want. You can't be a shitty person. Because that's the main mistake in your plan: you can't pretend to nullify the human, nor can you release him in solitude; the only thing you'll get is more attacks like the one you had that night of the tea we shared, attacks that, if they happen to you during an expedition, will cost more lives than you'll be able to count. Hold you back hasn't done you any good; you have to manage your shit the way I manage it when I cut napes out there."

Manage? The word conveys to him an unusual hope. 

He longs for nothing more than to believe him, now more than ever. 

"Do you propose that I manage my humanity at the right time so that I can concentrate on our mission?"

Levi nods.

"You'll be lighter that way because it's not enough to fall and get up later, you understand? You have to do something more drastic. You can't hold back anymore, Erwin: you have to think of a tactic to tame your shit."

"But…"

"Nothing - you will. That's why I'm here."

There is a silence, one that suffocates combined with Levi's gaze, with Levi's body, with how everything around him seems to burn given the intensity that the eyes transmit.

"Why are you here for?" Erwin asks without pretending - he doesn't understand what Levi means. Although perhaps it’s obvious, no, he doesn’t see it.

Because when it comes to himself, Erwin can't think straight.

Levi gets up. Just like before, he doesn't stop staring at him for a moment. However, despite the conviction that he denotes from the start, a particular gleam in his eyes stands out, appearing out of nowhere to give the pupils a different tone. There is a certain discomfort, also some fear, perhaps even a little embarrassment.

Above all, there is a devotion that Erwin, the sham of this corps and this world, recognizes as an exact reflection of what Levi makes him feel. However, no, he fails to see beyond that.

The devotion he sees in Levi should only be a reflection of the one he feels for his wings, not one that Levi devotes to him.

Because no one could devote something like this to…

Levi raises his hands. They reach the first button of his own shirt, right over his chest. He unbuttons it, then the next one; the eyes, meanwhile, leave behind the discomfort, the fear, the embarrassment.

The devotion covers everything else.

The hands finish unbuttoning the shirt; the fingers move the fabric, remove the shirt and also the jacket that covers it. The two garments fall to the floor. The bare chest is scarred, sculpted to the smallest detail, and the whiteness of the skin seduces more delicately thanks to the candle that illuminates it from behind, light and darkness giving shape to the most supreme contradiction.

He’s short, small build, and has strong male muscles that have nothing to do with the elegant gestures that are his trademark. The skin painted on a sculpture carved in detail, eyes that contain all life, all truth.

Perfect. 

"Levi, don't…"

"Silence." 

Levi moves forward, reaches him. He squats again before Erwin, holds one of his hands and carries it to his body. Erwin's palm, at the insistence of the grip, lies in the center of the chest, between one nipple and the other.

"You were right," Levi says, who looks him in the eye, who insists on doing it, who has nothing but devotion inside his pupils, "fucking with someone is about trust. Sharing such intimacy requires a lot of trust; vulnerability comes out whether you want it to or not."

"L-Levi…"

The hand squeezes him harder; an intense wave of heat burns him inside. How easily this glimmering skin does it.

Levi only has to look at him to put him at his feet. 

"If you think I don't see your big bulge between your legs, you're wrong; I see it and I accept it too. You wouldn't be here in the position you're in the corps if you didn't have a heart. You can't let die the most precious thing you have, you asshole."

Erwin feels his hand shaking between Levi's and his chest. The heartbeat, beneath the skin, accelerates, and accelerates, and stops time. It's as if that heart is beating against his hand, with no skin, no flesh, no bones in between. It's like having Levi's heart in his hand, beating so wildly, so deafening, that is capable of everything, even of disappearing everything around them, of leaving nothing standing.

He wavers as he looks at his hand, the other one and the chest they cover. 

This man is the last thing he deserves to have, the one he'll never deserve to hog.

But it's the person he has wanted the most, too. So much so that it's as if his skin is melting under his touch. What devilish chemistry they share.

He can't take it anymore, but…

"I can't, Levi."

"What do you mean? Your dick is working, it's getting bigger."

Erwin, despite how much is tormenting him the guilt, and the anguish, and the arousal as well, can laugh when he hears him. 

The magic remains intact.

"I can't use you as a prostitute."

Levi arches one eyebrow. 

"Huh? You offend me if you're thinking of me like that."

They look into each other's eyes once more. The devotion, in the pupils surrounded by silver colors, keeps growing and growing.

"I can't use you; I don't want you to…"

Levi looks to one side. His eyes are partly closed. 

"Inside these walls, prostitutes don’t seek their clients; they wait to be bought in brothels. That's how the business works. Some prostitutes in the Capital enjoy a good life and don't feel rejection for their profession, as they choose it freely, but those in the Underground mostly sell their bodies so as not to starve. They often have brats that they can't provide for because of a pig that cums inside of them. Sometimes, they choose not to have them, although not all of them survive the methods they use, the only ones they can access without a penny in their pockets; those who have them, have no choice but to raise them among the pigs they call clientele. Most of them die sooner or later, they die young and beautiful in dark, filthy rooms, which watch them decompose in solitude, forgotten, because some disgusting plague infects them and nobody gives a shit about their health." 

Levi squeezes Erwin's hand a little too tightly; he squints in pain. They hold their gaze, again, and how strange the vulnerability he notices in Levi as he describes the most despicable side of the Underground.

Is it a coincidence that he knows so much about it? 

"I'm not offering you to fuck so you can give me money in return; I'm offering you my trust to be yourself without guilt. I'm not as good with words as you are; I hope you understand what I mean."

Erwin stops blinking. 

He finally understands.

He’s offering him a safe space, one of total trust, of intimacy and peace, to exteriorize all that he'll have to hold back in order to survive. 

He's offering him a clean, guilt-free place.

An ideal one. 

"But I can't, Levi…" he says with a smile. Although he smiles, the gesture only conveys sadness, the same that beats non-stop in his heart. "I can't…"

He moves his hand away, holding his aching wrist against his chest. 

Levi just looks at him.

.

.

.

Why does he say he can't? Too tense to properly study the situation, too exposed in a way that he’s not used to both physically and emotionally, Levi thinks as fast as he can. 

He ties up all the loose ends he finds in the conversation: The Great Lunatic, titans who don't know shit about military ranks, unfulfilled dreams, safe spaces, trust.

He stands up and turns his back on Erwin as he walks to the door. He has to think fast.

Why doesn’t Erwin …?

Why doesn't he want it to…?

Erwin appears behind him. He covers his shoulders with the shirt and jacket Levi left on the floor. Then he holds his shoulders.

"No one has ever cared so much about me," he says with a broken voice, touched as a boy even though his voice is that of a man. "Thank you very much, I know you mean well. You’re also right, at least a little: I shouldn’t let myself be consumed. But I don't think this is the solution."

"Erwin…"

His hands caress his shoulders covered by his wrinkled clothes.

"You must go. I promise to find a way to manage my emotions so that no attack puts us all at risk."

"But…"

"You don't have to do this for me, Levi. I can't accept something like this, much less from you."

Then the world goes silent. 

Levi's eyes, always so tired, always with their eyelids droopy from experience, open wide, so wide that even his eyebrows raise too high. He looks at the door, feels Erwin's hands embracing his shoulders, and everything makes sense.

 _Much less from you_ , he said. 

Because Erwin Smith is a gentleman, and respects him, and admires his strength, and would never dare to ask him for anything. He wouldn’t because, contrary to what most of the corps think, the future commander who intimidates his subordinates by his unwavering conviction and sacrifice has, under his skin, under the ice block with which he covers his eyes and heart, a person full of guilt. 

A person who always stands aside, who never accepts flattery, who perhaps even hates himself.

A person who thinks he deserves nothing good that can happen to him, because he sees himself in a mirror made by his own hands, one that is only capable of showing him the distorted vision he has of his own heart.

Erwin Smith thinks he’s a sham.

He doesn't think he deserves that the man he wants so much, the one he admires so much too, devotes himself to him to help him not to fuck up his head anymore.

Erwin needs only one thing to accept, one, and that's precisely what Levi hasn't given him. It’s what Levi hasn’t given himself either, because he hasn’t considered it at all. Because Levi rejected the first touch at that time, on his birthday, because he wasn’t ready to forget the violence, to feel his whole existence being cleansed to the root.

It's about consent.

It’s about accepting that both will manage, not only Erwin, and they will do so in an equally safe space for both. 

Levi clenches his fists, takes a deep breath, releases from him, turns around. He looks up, looks for the eyes that inspire the heavens to radiate such beauty.

"I'm not going to hold your hand and put it in my bulge so you understand, I won't because that would be crossing a line and I respect you enough to not to do so, Erwin, but you can ask me. If you want to ask me, do it."

Erwin, with a frown, seems to hesitate. One can tell a mile away that the nervousness that controls him is an intense one, one that doesn't give him a break. 

"Ask you…?"

"Ask me." Levi clenches his fists more tightly. This is the way. This is it, and he doesn't trust Erwin's judgment of himself. "Use your fancy words to do it, go on, ask me if it's out of pity, to do you a simple favor, or because I really want to fuck just because you turn me on. I have an answer to that question, you just have to ask it."

.

.

.

Astonished, Erwin takes two steps back. Levi, although he sounds as usual, cold, rude, actually looks tense, nervous. 

Above all, with his bare chest and droopy eyelids, he looks moved. 

Vulnerable. 

Feeling the temperature rise in the space between them, how the heat takes their breath away, he says no, that he must refuse, that he can’t accept something like that. However, the heat that flies around his body gives him a different opinion, both the one that squeezes the hardness that tortures him between his legs and the one that caresses his heart. 

He wants to.

Damn, he wants to.

He wants to, and he's about to freak out at the mere possibility.

Breathing hard, he considers. A decision only has meaning when it affects the next decision, he remembers; what a valuable lesson learned in the worst way.

He looks at the closed book on the desk, and it's as if the image comes close to him, as if that closed book absorbs him.

If he loses his heart, he'll soon lose his head.

If he loses his head, he'll lose the tool he needs the most to make a difference. 

If Levi does this out of pity, he won't…

"Why are you doing this?" he asks almost voicelessly, more touched than he wants to admit to himself. "Is it because of me? Is it because you pity me?"

With his arms crossed under his open shirt and his jacket covering his shoulders, Levi shows that he has already made his own choice:

"No, Erwin. It's something else."

Levi has already made his choice, that's what his conviction tells him. He has yet to do so.

Him, the sham.

"So? Why do you do it?"

Levi takes one step forward, but it's like he's taking a thousand ones. 

"Because I want to, and because I'll regret it more if I don't."

Erwin breathes fast; then he stops to do so.

To decide the opposite of what Levi has decided will only torment him more, it will only end up killing the little that is left alive inside him after so many years of guilt, before so many deaths that he’ll have to acknowledge as his full responsibility.

To decide the same will be reckless in this context of war, death, and injustice behind these walls made of lies. 

But it'll be a midpoint, too.

It'll be the balance he needs.

It will be to give his humanity a home, to leave it in the best hands he knows.

To decide the same will be…

He looks at the book again; he has to reach that truth. 

Looking at the book he asks the last question:

"Do you want to… sleep with me?"

A laugh is the only answer he gets, at least at the beginning. The seconds go by, they agonize as they pass from one to the other. They seem like centuries; one takes longer than the one that precedes it.

Levi’s face sinks into his chest.

"Cheesy old man, asking me in such a politically correct way. Talk dirty to me, you won't die for it."

Erwin looks at the black hair. On either side of his body, his hands are shaking.

They do it for everything that Levi inspires him.

For devotion.

"Levi…" he whispers.

"I want to."

"But if I'm a pig…"

"You won't."

"How do you know?"

"I trust you, asshole."

"But sex disgusts you…"

And that's why his hands are shaking, mostly. 

Because he could regret nothing more than doing something to him against his will, without his consent.

"I told you, sex disgusts me, not you. You don't disgust me, blondie. You can trust my judgment too, hey!"

Levi looks at him from his chest. Erwin is speechless at the overwhelming desire he finds inside his eyes.

"You don't disgust me, not you, not the idea of fucking with you; you turn me on more than anyone else in my fucking life, actually, and I can't take it anymore," Levi repeats more stifled than he's ever heard him. "Now stop jabbering and touch me, dammit."

The blood that fills his veins, stopped throughout the scene, starts to flow again. Boiling, it concentrates on the most sensitive points of his body. On his thighs, a tension makes him sensitive.

Between his legs, he has no way of bearing his clothes anymore.

With his hands, in a simple, almost daily movement, Erwin sets aside Levi’s shirt and jacket; it's like the Night of Hope, but different; it's the work of both of them, not of one.

He drops the clothes; he looks at the silver eyes.

A second goes by; when the lips sink into the lips with such urgency as divine as it’s obscene, he sees nothing, not anymore.

It's a gamble, like everything he does, like every risk he takes.

When Levi answers the kiss without having any idea how to do so, he discovers the most important thing.

No matter how many consequences this inappropriate idyll brings to this context of pure despair, he has just made the right choice. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much for everything, for reading, for leaving comments, for your kudos and for sharing your feelings with me, for being on the other side.
> 
> Thanks forever. :')


	18. XVIII

**XVIII**

When Erwin drops his shirt and jacket, in the seconds it takes them to hit the floor, Levi experiences some kind of hallucination. An unusual amount of information awakens inside his brain and overwhelms him with concepts he has never been interested in exploring.

Until today.

Erwin kisses him as he embraces him, pressing him to his chest with an exacerbated vehemence, and the simple impact of so many intermingled sensations manages to bring him back to reality. What he feels when he returns can only be compared to what he felt on that fateful day of his life, the saddest one, but how fortunate that this scene is the opposite of the one he never wants to remember.

He knows exactly what he has to do; his innermost instinct has been ignited at the same time as his skin, which, just for receiving a kiss from Erwin, acquires another kind of consciousness.

It's alive.

He squeezes his eyes shut; watching is not necessary when it comes to losing oneself in sensations. On returning the embrace, on holding Erwin's shirt with his fingers just above his waist, he's guided by what his skin describes to him, by everything that Erwin unleashes, by the restlessness that makes him want everything, an unknown, mysterious whole, which only fills him with one thing.

Longing.

He returns the kiss, making it as wild as the first one they shared just a week ago; he sucks his lips, moves his tongue in untidy circles that Erwin's tongue proposes to him. He does it, and a wave of heat that hits him and defeats him arises from the floor, one that transforms him and makes him sensitive.

It burns. Everything that comes from Erwin burns like fire and is everywhere. Erwin burns him when he squeezes him with his arms, and the heat that overwhelms him doesn't disgust him. 

Because Erwin is not a pig.

Because nobody ever…!

He breathes deeply against the lips that kiss him; it's an overdose. Because the heat makes him feel damp as if his skin were melting; because Erwin's kisses and caresses are the ones that keep his body as it is, that shape him so that he doesn't become mere remains of this unbearable heat, one that didn't come from the floor, no, but was born from the touch between their skins.

Levi lets out a grunt against Erwin's mouth, who releases him to breathe. They both breathe against each other's mouths, and the air doesn't return to their lungs; it's even scarcer.

Erwin's hands hold him by the waist, squeezing him; his lips go from his neck to his chest. When the tip of a tongue draws the edges of his left nipple, Levi whines amidst confusion, pleasure, and ignorance.

He loves it.

Trembling, he holds his hair. The golden locks spread between his fingers. Inconceivably soft, he needs to pull them out to withstand the lack of air and the excess of heat. 

It's not enough. Nothing is enough.

He gasps when his knees fail; Erwin holds him up with strong hands, prevents the fall, and eagerly sucks on the nipple.

.

.

.

It's addictive. 

Erwin feels that he's dissociated, that Levi's body transports him to another existential plane in which only the human exists, not the soldier who fights for the truth. He doesn't recognize himself as the one who sucks Levi's nipple, nor as the one who pulls his belt with the only intention of undressing him, of paving the way to touch him. This is another Erwin.

He has never felt more real than he does now.

From the nipple, he goes down to the stomach. He slips his lips over the skin covering the ribs, over the biceps, over the right side of the waist. He contains himself from biting the scarred skin, so stained by the exaggerated experience of this person born from violence.

He kisses the strong muscles of the torso while holding Levi on each side of his waist. Levi's knees give way and he watches him fall onto them, before him. Erwin, squatting, kneels too, hugs him, takes off his belt, throws it aside, unbuttons his pants.

He kisses him below the navel bending before the whiteness; he's untied, the imaginary strap that tied him to the guilt has broken and he has no idea how to stop himself, not before this body. 

Levi, embracing his neck, falls backward not without dragging him with him.

.

.

.

He doesn't understand anything that is happening and it terrifies him in a way that annoys him, because the heat is unbearable, and every kiss makes him hotter, especially if it's on his nipples or on the place where Erwin is kissing him right now, below the navel, so close and so far from the hardness that vibrates urgently between his legs. 

As he feels the cold of the floor hitting the heat of his skin, Levi arches his back as he moans as he doesn't remember doing in the past. He didn't know he could have a reason to moan like that, either. 

Until today, he did know nothing at all.

Erwin's hands venture over his clothes; nervous judging by the tremor he feels when they touch him, but at the same time convinced in a passionate, categorical way, they try to pull down the rest of his clothes, to make the last two garments that cover Levi disappear.

He stops him by holding him by his shirt.

Levi opens his eyes; Erwin's hands stop, remaining suspended in the air. They tremble, yes; Erwin trembles, and, in his eyes, the heavens are made of fire, and his skin is red with heat. 

Overwhelmed by the beauty of the image, frustrated too, Levi begins to unbutton Erwin's shirt with a scowl and restless hands. What should be easy becomes difficult, the energy he tries to repress doesn't help him, nor does anxiety; he undoes two buttons, and when he fails to unbutton the third one because of the clumsiness of his fingers, he clicks his tongue and clenches his teeth. Why don't his hands react?!

Erwin looks at him. Levi, to whom Kenny properly taught how to read people's eyes, can't figure out what the pupils are shouting.

The seconds go by, and Erwin's face mutates. His features are perfectly legible when he smiles.

Is there lust in the pupils that look at him? Is there tenderness mixed with lust?

Can those two elements mix inside a pair of eyes…?

.

.

.

His hands magically stop shaking, but no; it's for what he looks at and how much it inspires him.

How can he let himself be nervous now, being with the one he is with? Levi doesn't deserve his nervousness. What Levi is doing for him deserves much more.

Not him.

Never him.

But how much he longs to believe that he does, that Levi deserves him precisely because he has decided to, that the fact that he has decided to make this happen means that Erwin is the right person. Not because he deserves it or not.

That's right.

He's the right person because he's the person Levi has chosen. 

"Let me," he says when his throat tightens not because of anguish, not because of guilt, but because of the emotion that makes his skin crawl in a different way than desire does.

It's tenderness. The one that has made him nervous, the one that now allows him to relax again; it's the tenderness that Levi causes him. 

They are neither young nor inexperienced, but what an inevitable feeling of tenderness in the face of all that Levi is doing for him, in the face of this clumsiness mixed with elegance, in the face of this frustration that his eyes reveal, wild and confused, voracious and indecisive.

He leans his left hand against Levi's right shoulder; with his right hand, helps Levi's fingers with the following buttons. As he does so, he notices something.

The hands.

He hadn't noticed this detail, or he did, but, in this context, it acquires another meaning: Levi's hands are beautiful, delicate in their movement and their shape, of an enviable neatness, but extremely experienced.

How inevitable to feel stupid for admiring them up to this point as if memorizing them were necessary. They are the strongest hands he knows, also the most perfect.

He needs them on his skin.

He…

There are no more buttons; each end of Erwin's shirt falls on Levi's torso, who looks at his naked chest with a little more curiosity than he usually reveals in his eternal stoicism.

.

.

.

He never tried to imagine Erwin's body; the few times he allowed himself to think about it during the last days, more by instinct than by his own free will, his body was phantasmagoric, it had no details. Although he knows that he has liked men for years, he has never lost himself in considerations of this kind; no one has ever awakened in him an interest that reaches this point, that of hunger, that which belongs to the realm of skin. 

But Erwin knocks down everything, every prejudice, every lie. His chest is absurd, it wasn’t difficult to imagine it under his clothes, but having it before his eyes it's different, it gives another kind of veracity to the scene; it lets him know that this is happening.

It's beautiful. Huge, imposing, its skin covered by thin golden hair. It's muscular, hard, masculine in a way that is well adapted to the prevailing canon of beauty.

Erwin could have just anyone he wants underneath him, anyone begging for his touch; no one in their right mind could object. 

It's a fucking drawing made by the most talented artist. 

So focused he is on the chest and the heat that the chest emanates, one that even humiliates the mental image he has of that concept called hell, that Levi never notices what Erwin does, how he holds his right hand and brings it to his body just as Levi himself did by offering to share this moment. He sees his hand on Erwin's massive chest, feels the hardness of the muscles by touch, and it's as if his brain stopped working for an instant.

"Fuck," he sighs. It's like being between asleep and awake, the image burns and destroys him; Erwin sucks him in, his skin screams at him as it burns him.

He clenches his teeth as he watches his hand trembling on the skin, his fingers sunk in the golden hair that covers Erwin’s chest. He wants to pull it, kiss it, caress his face and his tongue and his cock and his whole body against this chest.

His breathing speeds up as he hears the energy that exudes from him giving him diffuse, strange commands in unknown languages that he nevertheless manages to understand perfectly. Erwin, even as agitated as he is, seems to hold back.

Fuck off.

"Levi…"

Fuck off!

In an abrupt, violent movement, he holds Erwin's naked waist as he moves his hands under his shirt. His hands squeeze to call for help. Erwin seems to understand, so he cooperates, and they both pull back his shirt. How inevitable to delight once again with the muscles of the arms showing such strength without doing anything at all.

Soon, as if they were fighting for mere training, Levi spreads his legs and surrounds Erwin's waist with them. He holds the impressive shoulders and urges Erwin to sink into his chest. He pulls, Erwin crushes him; they breathe deeply at the same time, one mouth over the other.

They look at each other, one chest over the other, and the heat is no longer unbearable; it certainly becomes pleasant.

It's exactly what Levi needs on his skin.

To burn, to melt, to mingle with what is left of Erwin, the remains of each one producing something new, something better.

"Go on, blondie," he says. His voice is like a whisper, fragile despite sounding deep, hoarse; it's pure lack of air. "Don't be so shy; you're a certain age now, you shouldn't behave like this."

Erwin laughs against his mouth. He looks embarrassed, something that in a face of more than thirty embellishes in another way. It gives him a youthfulness that shines, that softens; it’s something that is out of place with what, as it well reveals the position in which they are, lies so hard against his hardness. 

It's true, then.

Lust, when the one who shows it inside their pupils it’s not a pig, can have other elements. Tenderness, trust, respect.

Devotion, that which is taking everything by storm by bringing them together. 

"It’s that…"

"What?"

"You're beautiful, Levi." Erwin covers his right cheek with one hand, the back of his head with the other; with one elbow, avoids overwhelming him with his weight.

Levi raises an eyebrow as he looks at him.

"Huh? Beautiful?"

"Very beautiful."

"I see… And that's why you're treating me so gently?"

"Rather that's why I don't know what to do; I'm stunned, you inspire me so much that…"

"Cheesy old man, stop that."

"Don't you believe me?"

The eyebrow falls, returns to its usual state.

"I believe you because I know you're honest when you're cheesy, but I'll tell you something, big boy." Levi, breathing a little harder every second, puts his lips against Erwin's jaw. He loses the thread of what he's trying to say as he feels the skin against his mouth, not so soft because of the beard that shyly starts to grow, but mature, full of experiences as the chest is and also the hands and also the arms and also Erwin's eyes, those that talk so much saying no words. "You don't have to be like that."

Pleased judging by the way he sinks his jaw into his mouth, Erwin responds with a voice as hoarse as his:

"Like what?"

"Soft."

"Levi…"

They shiver against each other, their cocks caught in their pants, one turned on against the other, two solid rocks rubbing against each other. Feeling Erwin's whole body beat against his sends waves of heat into his flesh, piercing his skin, devouring him from the inside.

He thrusts Erwin's hip by moving it back and forth, by caressing one erection against the other. A chill strains his entire body, making it fragile and strong as well; by holding back a groan as his nipples rub against Erwin's chest, by sensing the tension that blurs his skin and takes over his reason, he wraps his arms around his neck and focuses his eyes on Erwin's without mercy.

He can't take it anymore. He doesn't know why, he doesn't know how, but he needs to stop thinking.

Fuck off, yeah. 

"Lose your fucking mind, Erwin Smith," he says before to kiss him with his hands clinging to his hair, his hips out of control as he moves them against Erwin’s to rub and be rubbed, to feel and be felt. He has no idea what he does with his tongue, why he sinks it so deep into Erwin's mouth, why he needs to devour him to this visceral, violent, dirty, and explicit point.

But he wants to.

He doesn't want to deny it anymore.

.

.

.

How passionate he is.

Levi's kisses suffocate him; his passion is wild, it’s raw, in constant wait. It's a passion without patience, rude, untidy, that subjugates in the best way. It's the only thing that explains the vehemence with which he kisses him.

He doesn't know how to kiss, but Levi kisses better than all those faceless ghosts that, in his past, disappear without a trace when he reaches this epiphany.

.

.

.

Because it's not enough, and that is why he can no longer bear it, because he wants to destroy himself by destroying him, to sink into him and to sink him into him. He wants it all at once, in one move, in one fucking second. He wants everything Erwin can give him and even more. 

He wants it!

With his arms around his neck, Levi kisses him deeper, faster; his tongue does what it can, what instinct tells it to do in so many whispers in so many languages, while his lips suck all the flesh they touch and his hips thrust with the same vigor. His hands, now on Erwin's infinite back, move with explicit abruptness.

He only knows that he cannot bear it, that it's not enough and won't be enough, and that the key to getting rid of the heat is to make it explode. Let it explode inside him, let the tension that rises through his legs, and is concentrated in his groin, explode into a thousand pieces and make his eyes and mind go blank.

Everything he is, what constitutes him. 

He kisses his mouth, his jaw, his neck. Goes up, touches the nose, the forehead, an eyelid with his half-open lips. Every time he stops to touch, when he loses contact with Erwin, Levi's skin shivers as he's plunged into an unbearable cold, one that has nothing to do with the harshness he thrusts against Erwin, numbed by tension, by dissatisfaction.

He wants more.

He pulls up Erwin's body even closer to his, pulls his hair, strokes his right earlobe with his tongue, and goes back to his neck, and squeezes his back, and moves completely against him, and he doesn't understand what he's doing, and the heat grows, and the tension makes him tremble, and the cold terrifies him, and he thrusts once and a thousand times against Erwin's burning erection, so huge compared to his judging by what he perceives when he caresses himself against it. But no, this is not the way.

Impatient, he caresses the back with his nails, nibbles on the neck, rubs Erwin's face with his cheek and holds a grunt born of annoyance, of dissatisfaction. He rubs himself whole against him, his erection, his nipples, his belly, everything, and rubs himself against the floor to find there the cold that comforts so much suffering. He's exhausted, the arousal turns into pain, it tears him apart when he doesn't find a solution and when he doesn't get enough when he asks for more and more. 

Because, that's it, he wants more!

"Shit," he mumbles as he falls to the floor with his face bent to the left, no more air in his lungs, inhaling and exhaling with his mouth open.

Erwin strokes his torso with his fingertips. A single touch sends another chill down his spine.

"Breathe…" Erwin mutters to him. He brushes his hair, holds his cheeks, looks into his eyes, and Levi feels that even these he wants to kiss. "I need you to answer one question before we continue."

Levi holds Erwin's neck and squeezes on either side. Erwin stirs in response, and even the erotic sound of his breath is not enough to calm Levi’s cravings.

"What the fuck do you want?" he says, annoyed by the interruption, by the desire he can't contain.

"Have you done it before?"

"Huh?"

"Have you ever had sex?"

Levi squeezes his eyes shut. He doesn't want to answer, but he knows Erwin is a good person and he's probably asking him this out of respect.

It's still about trust.

"Four years ago. It was only once."

.

.

.

That explains this beautiful mess in front of him. The way he reacts to contact, almost on the defensive; the way he suddenly gives in, abruptly, until he runs off like water in his hands.

It's funny, in a way: two men of a certain age who fly through the air with their three-dimensional maneuvering equipment and don't waver when they see the back of a titan's neck, no matter how much fear and fury and suffering accumulate in their throats; two men who have lived so long, who have gone through such complex emotional journeys that, perhaps, would drive anyone crazy. There is so much conceptual weight on their bodies, it exerts so much pressure on both of them, that it doesn't make sense, not this, not those same men kissing and touching each other on the floor of a lost room in the military base where they live. It doesn't make sense that this is so difficult for them despite the passion they feel, that the lack of experience in this kind of scenario gets mixed with the excess of experience in others.

They are both nervous, and perhaps they shouldn't reject that, Erwin says to himself as he kisses Levi repeatedly, on the cheek, on the nose, on the jaw, slow, subtle kisses, expressing the tenderness that has possessed him unusually and not so much.

Perhaps they should use their nervousness to their advantage.

"Don't tell me something like _I'll take care of you, I'll be gentle_ , because you don't have to do that; I'm not going to let you say that shit like I'm fifteen," Levi says as he trembles and writhes at every little touch of Erwin's mouth on his skin.

Erwin smiles. He mustn't underestimate Levi, nor the conviction he shows him. He still worries about the disgust he feels about sex, if he has to be honest, although it starts to make sense to think that it's not about the sex itself, but about the dirt.

He asks himself for patience as he holds Levi's hands, which continue to squeeze each side of his neck - this puzzle will find a way to be completed sooner or later.

In the meantime, he has to work hard.

"I won’t say those sort of things," he states as he interlaces his fingers with his, his mouth kissing slowly and devotedly every corner of Levi's skin he comes across. 

"But you're thinking of it."

"Maybe."

"I don't want you to do so. You don't have to be nice; I don't like it. It makes me uncomfortable."

He remembers the dialogue during the Night of Hope: Levi is uncomfortable when someone shows concern for him. It's ironic that the person who cares about him the most is the one who cares less about himself. 

But maybe it's a matter of taste.

Taste…

"I'm sorry," Erwin says as he lets go of Levi and kneels between his legs, which fall on either side of his thighs reluctantly, or that seems to indicate the annoyance Levi shows by looking at each of his actions as if he doesn't agree with them.

"What are you doing? Don't tell me you're having second thoughts, because I swear I will tie you to the bed if you tell me this is not right or something like that."

Erwin, in greater control of himself thanks to the relaxing moment after so much arousal, laughs as he always does at getting a bit of Levi's particular humor.

He wouldn't mind at all. 

He laughs more when he thinks about it: he has never considered the mere possibility of being immobilized. What magic does Levi have that is capable of making him consider things that have always seemed extreme for what he prefers in intimacy? He, who is not exactly the archetype of a specialist man, for whom sex has never had any real meaning. 

Should it have it now?

"Not at all," he replies by holding back one more laugh in the face of Levi's lacerating frustration, "I just realized it's very impolite of me to have you on my floor. If I think about it, I'm also a little surprised you didn't complain."

Levi looks at the floor on either side of his head as he moves his eyes from one side to the other.

.

.

.

It's true.

Normally, he'd be disgusted by the idea of fucking someone on the floor. Actually, he'd be disgusted at the idea of fucking or being partially naked on any floor.

But this is Erwin.

Erwin in Erwin's room.

As if the room were one of Erwin’s extensions, Levi feels this space as clean as he feels Erwin himself. Everything is clean not only because he has cleaned this place up to his standards. 

It's because it relates to Erwin.

That's why he hasn't noticed his position at any time; he hasn't felt uncomfortable for a moment. He has felt frustrated, tense, nervous, but for the heat without relief, for not getting enough of Erwin, not for the rest.

"What do you propose then?" Levi asks without looking at him. 

Erwin's shadow covers him like a cloak when he stands up. The candlelight behind him illuminates the shapes of his torso, of his arms. The hands stretch out before him.

"Come on," he says with a smile.

Levi holds Erwin's hands and stands up. When he does, he gets dizzy. He breathes heavily as Erwin embraces him, as his face sinks into the chest of the one who holds him.

In his chest, a heat grows and overwhelms him even more than the heat that, just by the contact between his skin and Erwin's, overwhelms him again between his legs.

They walk the seven steps that separate them from the bed. Levi doesn't wait for what happens: Erwin kisses him, holds him, puts him on the foot of the bed, and tries to take off what is left of his clothes. Levi stops him by pulling him hard, by throwing him on him.

Lying on the foot of the bed, the heat rises in the blink of an eye; burning in the same way, they kiss, devour each other, move against each other, breathe in each other's breath. 

Levi tries to pull down his pants; Erwin stops him by tightening his waist. Levi insists; Erwin stops him again and also kisses him.

Levi whimpers against Erwin's mouth when Erwin keeps holding him tightly.

The vulnerability he feels sends torrents of arousal towards his cock, which twitches violently inside his pants.

.

.

.

The simplicity of that sound, of Levi's whimpering, makes Erwin's mind disconnect for a wonderful moment. He's free on this body, on this skin, locked in this heat. Without reason, he's like an animal. He wants to devour and be devoured.

He has never felt so hot, so much that his legs and his eyebrows tremble, that his cock begs to be freed from his clothes. 

His clothes, yes.

He pulls down their pants and underwear with awkward movements, helped by Levi's feet, which push the fabrics together with him. They do it together until all the clothes disappear.

Erwin is on his feet; Levi, seated at the foot of the bed.

They look at each other, at each other's nakedness, and Erwin recovers his reason, his anguish, his guilt, but not because of so many experiences and injustice, nor because of impossible dreams.

Paralyzed before Levi, obsessed by his unreal beauty, wild and sweet, beautiful even when it doesn't respond to that canon invented by the pigs, he knows that he will never deserve this.

Levi is perfect in a way that is so categorical that it even hurts.

He's beautiful.

He'll never live up to him.

.

.

.

Regarding beauty, he has never seen a more handsome man than Erwin Smith, who, naked before him, smiles in a way that he has no right to show at a time like this, naked and with his cock that hard. 

He smiles with a tenderness that almost tastes of modesty; it's unacceptable coming from this fucking human sculpture.

He looks at the erection - the difference between them is evident, it fills him with longings to which he can't give words. 

He swallows when he looks to one side and is tormented by the weakness that the gesture expresses. He clicks his tongue when the bastard in front of him laughs.

"Damn, Erwin. What the fuck are you laughing at?"

"You're blushing."

Oh, shit.

"Your hair down there has the color of your eyebrows, It’s ridiculous," he lies.

"Your hair is very thin, I find it aesthetic, but also very masculine."

Levi's cheeks get even hotter. He has never thought about himself, about his appearance and how admirable he might be to people. Someone calling him like that is new.

Erwin calling him like that…

"Stop looking at the hair of my dick, you creep." 

He tries to cross his legs, but a kiss stops him. Erwin kisses him slowly but deeply, grabbing him by the shoulders. Levi holds onto his knees to resist. 

Erwin walks away but not before giving him another smile. Levi watches how he turns his back on him to head to the desk. Stunned, between uncomfortable and bewildered by the intimacy of the scene, he observes the buttocks, the thighs, the scars, the insane width of the back, the shape of each muscle, the flesh that constitutes him.

He's so beautiful that he shines like the most delicate piece of porcelain he has ever seen. The cleanest, one that just by looking at it causes even the impossible.

It makes him smile.

Erwin returns to bed with the candle in his hands; he leaves it on the nightstand on the right. He returns to the foot of the bed and holds one of Levi's hands, who feels his heart racing after a few minutes of truce.

They look into each other's eyes, again. With a shake of his head, Erwin invites him to crawl on the mattress, to lie down on it.

Levi feels that the invitation alone paralyzes him.

Because with the candle lighting him from the front and not from the back, Erwin not only looks majestic.

He's perfect.

With his legs shaking in a way that bothers him as everything else has done (how weak he makes him feel and how much it outrages him), Levi crawls backward. When he gives him plenty of space, Erwin gets into bed too. He crawls in front of him, who feels his heart beating faster and faster, stronger.

Levi reaches the pillow, rests his head on it.

Erwin stays on top of him, leaning on his hands and knees, without even touching him. The comparison of their bodies is as absurd as Erwin's beauty is; he feels like a cat before a titan. 

"You brought the candle to look at me in more detail," Levi says.

"Yes."

"You pervert."

Erwin smiles.

"I think if I had to keep looking at you and nothing else, without being able to hog you for a second, sooner or later I'd have gone crazy." The last word comes from him more with the breath than with the voice, mixed with a short, soft, but honest laugh, more honest than any other from the past.

Why?

.

.

.

Because this emotion is extreme.

Because this scene has a meaning that it shouldn't have.

Because he's not living up to him and he won't.

.

.

.

Erwin brings the palm of his right hand to Levi's face, who looks at him, and then not, and then again, half of him lit by the candle coming from the right of the room, the other half darkened by the shadows of the left.

"Thank you for this…" he whispers just before kissing him by opening his mouth a little. 

Levi feels how his chest rises, how that heat from before gets more intense, how his heart grows until painful limits. It's a pain he has never felt before, one that connects with his tear ducts, with his crotch, with every sensitive spot on his skin, even with the tightness of his throat.

What the fuck is this and why does it overwhelm him so much?

He trembles before embracing Erwin, forcing him to crush him with his weight just like on the floor, to kiss him vehemently, violently. He pulls him; Erwin breathes hard against his shoulder when their bodies get closer. The emotion that twists inside Levi's heart invades his whole being.

He's happy.

Sinking Erwin on his shoulder, holding him tightly by the neck, Levi, desperate, looks at the ceiling with his eyes wide open and without breath. 

It shouldn't make him so happy. Not this. Not two hard dicks who've decided to have fun together so they can fight stress.

The very idea of being so fucking happy to have Erwin on top of him messes up the whole scene and his whole existence. Anxious, feeling the anxiety that fills him whenever he sees dirt around him, that times when he can't stand the dirt and the fear and the repetition of bad memories and vulnerability and…

"Levi…"

…just cleaning up calms him down as if it purifies him, he realizes something.

"Levi?"

There's no dirt to clean up.

For the first time in years, since that day when he felt that absurd flow of violence inside his body, Levi has no idea what to do.

He goes blank.

Because there is no dirt. 

Because this happiness…

"Levi! Do you hear me?"

His eyes focus only when he releases the air he's been holding for seconds and seconds for no reason - Erwin is leaning over him, worried. Levi tries to say something, but he can't because of the agitation. 

Erwin caresses his jaw with a tenderness that thrills him.

"I don't want you to force yourself to do something that makes you uncomfortable, not because of me," he says to him with absolute seriousness. "If you don't feel well, we can stop and…"

"No," Levi answers. "I don't want that."

"But you don't…"

"Stop underestimating my judgment; you offend me. I'm here because I want to fuck, I'm just…" Levi turns his face to the left. He feels his eyes plunge into the darkness in front of him, between books scattered on the floor and a curtain covering the sky that is behind the window. "Fuck," he murmurs as he realizes he's unable to externalize what is overwhelming him.

Because he doesn't understand it.

How to give shape to something so strong and so incomprehensible? How to make words reach being who he is, having the past he has, being how fucked up he is?

.

.

.

With his head leaning against the pillow like this, with his eyes fixed on the darkness and frowning in frustration, Levi looks dreamy. Erwin can't stop admiring every little detail of his face, his skin, his body. The spotless whiteness that covers him, the thin hair, the short eyelashes barely curved upwards, the lips reddened by kisses, the drop of sweat that runs down his forehead…

But he's not going to push him, he can't.

He thinks about what to say by looking at the frown and feeling the trembling of the hands holding him on either side of his waist.

"Let's fuck," Levi says as he closes his eyes tightly, without turning towards him. "It's not that hard." He opens his eyes as abruptly as he breathes, as he trembles, as he reacts to every touch. He turns towards him, finally, and his eyes remain on him. "Go on. I just need to calm… my anxiety."

Anxiety?

Erwin gets up a bit using his arms for support, each hand under each of Levi's armpits.

"I'll trust you more, I promise," Erwin says, convinced. "But I need you to explain to me what's wrong with you. Levi, you said it: this, you and me like this, is a safe space. If it's safe for me, it must be safe for you."

To Erwin's surprise, Levi seems to break into a thousand pieces when he hears him. He gets alarmed when he notices how his stoicism disappears from his face to be replaced by a raw emotion that paints everything around him. 

.

.

.

It happens that he's fucked up and because he's fucked up he can't relax enough. It happens, yes, that he's fucked up for life and doesn't know a context in which violence doesn't exist. There was one once, those cold nights while his mom sang him that sad, tender melody.

This scene is different, but it holds the same kind of peace that he doesn't understand. 

He keeps his eyes wide open before the blue he sees, as if he could find an answer in them that perhaps doesn't exist. 

Peace? What is that? What is peace for a person born in injustice and shaped by violence, who would have given everything to save his mother from that bloody infection? What concept can be locked up in a word that seems to belong to a reality he has never known?

What person would be able to imagine the existence of something beautiful when they have spent their whole life contemplating misery?

Looking into Erwin's eyes, Levi doesn't know how to externalize what's wrong with him. How does he explain to him that he doesn't understand anything? How does he tell him that he doesn't understand because of his shortcomings, because of how fucked up his head is, because of how many bodies he has had to leave behind to… 

Erwin gets surprised, and a lot; the absurd curve of his eyebrows reveals it. His pupils dilate instantly, glued to his own; his eyelids fall slightly when a beautiful smile appears on his lips.

Why does he make him so happy?! So much, but so much, that he even wants to cry…!

"Our minds are very… _fucked up_ , aren't they?"

Levi breathes air with his mouth when he lets his hands fall on the bed.

This scene has gone too far. 

He adores this man, like this, smiling beautifully, with tenderness despite the explicit details that find them in this bed, whispering a bad word that doesn't fit with the richness of his daily speech. He adores Erwin, he adores him in a way he never did.

He adores him; with an intensity so twisted and overwhelming that it comes out of his heart, his skin, and his brain at the same time, that it nourishes him to unexplored corners of unconsciousness. How terrifying to give in to the idea, to understand the extent to which he does so.

Kenny would insult him so much if he saw him… _Hey, brat! How can you let yourself be read like that? Do you think this world is a nice place for people like us? How pathetic! Rats only have the right to bother those feet that threaten to step on them._

_Without violence you're not only fucked up; you're a dead rat._

He has lived through too much violence. He has suffered it, he has caused it, he has even produced it. He has killed, stolen, cheated to survive; he has done everything he was supposed to do not for himself, but for the people who were important to him.

He did it for Kenny, to show him that he could, that he knew how to do it, that he could defend himself, that he was worthy of his care.

He did it for Farlan when he met him and decided to make him his partner, his only joy amid the misery.

He did it for Isabel when he found her dying in the street and took her with him to give her a home so that her destiny wouldn't be that of his mother.

His life is tied up by the violence that preceded and followed the appearance of the people he has adored the most. The last chain of violence, that started with Farlan's and Isabel's deaths, has naturally dragged him to this point, to this link.

Yeah, he's fucked up. He is, as is Erwin, whose eyes look like those of a person watching freedom.

Does he look like him? Is Levi looking at him like that, too?

Like he's transparent even though he's made of unbreakable ice.

As if there was no more ice to break.

He doesn't notice the caress he gives Erwin on his right cheek until he sees his hand resting just below his blue eye. Even his fingers look small compared to this monster! It's the first caress that he traces on Erwin without the urgency that violence or anxiety have requested by getting lost on this skin; it's the first time that he caresses him sincerely, without anything that disturbs him inside, his mind and his heart calm waters without memory despite the scars they carry.

Erwin, on top of him, caresses his hand, looks for it with his eyes closed. Levi understands that Erwin does nothing more than enjoying the caress, waiting for confirmation.

Are they fucked up?

"We're beyond fucked up."

He raises his other hand, holds Erwin's other cheek, and draws him to him. He doesn't kiss him; with their mouths touching a millimeter apart, they swallow at the same time. They look at each other, moving their pupils by the closeness and identical devotion.

They are fucked up, and tonight it will be a disaster, and it will all go wrong and it will be shit, but it will be a disaster of unparalleled beauty, one worthy of who they are and what, in this first encounter, they are capable of delivering.

It will be the most beautiful disaster for only one reason. Because even if everything goes wrong and the context is a mistake, these naked bodies and this devotion are nothing more than this, which is obvious as their skin stands on end the moment Erwin lets himself fall on Levi, the same one in which Levi hugs him by the neck to press him against him.

It will be beautiful because that's what the two of them have decided.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I apologize for the delay: the isolation is playing a trick on me, unfortunately, and I find it very hard to concentrate. The latter is especially problematic with translation. I swear I put all my love into it. Besides, at the last minute my laptop died (!!!) and I couldn't translate without it. Despite the difficulties, here I am. 
> 
> I hope it was worth the wait at least a little. :')
> 
> I dedicate this chapter to all the readers who always comment and give encouragement and share the link of the fic in social media. I even thank a lot the non-readers who share as well. 
> 
> Thanks a lot for supporting my story in such nice ways! ♥
> 
> Erwin and Levi are gonna have to learn to have sex with each other. It's not going to be easy for them, it would be impossible in the context they are in, besides they are both implying emotions that they don't yet fully understand.
> 
> Of course they are two grown men, they are not teenagers anymore; their nervousness or insecurities have to do with the tiredness they are dragging from reality, not with the obvious lack of experience we all have in our youth. I like to think of them that way, as two men who, although they desire each other enormously, at the same time are worn out by circumstances, so that they don't have it easy to relax in bed.
> 
> Writing about the development of the most intimate aspect of their bond is something that moves me a lot. I hope you like what follows! 
> 
> Thank you for everything. ♥


	19. XIX

**XIX**

This is special. Erwin tries to tell himself that no, that it's not, that he shouldn't allow it to become so, but how they are embracing each other in this tiny corner of the world, almost in the dark and sunken in a silence that is as quiet as a grave not because of tragedy but because of desire, doesn't allow any other kind of description.

It's the most special moment he remembers living in years.

In fact, if he has to be honest, in terms of intimacy this is the most special moment of his life, and how little it has needed to claim such powerful symbolism. Just this, his body attached to Levi's, Levi's arms around his neck, the eyes of one glued to the other, the heat of one body infecting the other.

It's magical, a natural detachment from the ordinary that, despite belonging to another level of life, it’s more real than reality.

It's that, although he's too close, the image he looks at is one of intolerable perfection. It's Levi with his eyes half-closed and his mouth open, half lit by the candle and half darkened by night. It's Levi rubbing his mouth with his lips and his breath, it's that smell of cleaning products, soap and something similar to lavender that always surrounds him becoming the most erotic scent in history, one that is carnal, masculine, but also delicate even though it comes from violence. It's to feel him so hard between their bodies and to feel overwhelmed by how much this shared intimacy inspires him.

It's Levi complete, Levi under him in this bed, detached as he is precisely because he's with him.

A different situation would make this scene simpler. If one of them were a woman it would be simpler in the eyes of this mistaken society of stupid morals; if they weren’t military, or didn't have the hierarchy and the talent they have, or hadn't decided to dedicate their hearts to a cause as significant as freedom…

But they were born inside these walls with all that that entails, from the prejudice of a morality invented by pigs to the impossibility of relaxing completely to enjoy a moment alone.

"We're beyond fucked up."

However, as Levi confirmed when he said those words, all that has been left behind.

Erwin, with his thighs intertwined with Levi's, with his erection as hard as Levi's, no longer has the time or the mind or the will to pay attention to the details that make this scene difficult. The only thing he can do is get lost in the beauty of the face and in the heat generated by the simple touch of the two erections that lie on Levi's belly, longing to the limit.

He asks himself many questions as he perceives the friction that forces them both to move with a little more insistence against each other. He fantasizes so many things at the same time that he can hardly manage to put them in order in his head; so many images, so many possibilities between Levi and himself, so many ways to quit that outside that no longer exists thanks to this suffocating heat that induces them to barely touch each other, and that with just one touch it erases everything again and again.

Levi pushes against him and holds back a moan as he does so; Erwin feels his teeth brushing against his jaw. He sighs and looks at the frown underneath him until he notices something.

The dampness.

He lifts a little using his arms for support; Levi's belly is wet just below their cocks, stained by precum from both of them, irrefutable evidence of how extreme the arousal is despite the calm they share.

Concerned about the discomfort that this explicit stain could cause Levi, Erwin tries to get up.

"I'll clean you up, I'm sorry," he mutters at full speed.

Levi tugs at his hip and makes him lay down on him once more.

"Forget it."

.

.

.

Even he is surprised to say it, but he says it and knows how convinced he is by it.

Because it's Erwin's.

Because this dampness comes from Erwin, from what Erwin feels and what Erwin generates, and it means that he wants this as much as he does.

Because nothing that comes from Erwin could make him feel dirty.

Never.

.

.

.

Although his nature doesn't allow him to dismiss embarrassment immediately, the trust he feels and the conviction that Levi's silvery eyes show relaxes his mind enough. Without further ado, he lets himself be pulled and returns to the previous position, with Levi's arms around his neck, his erections tightened on his pale belly. Slowly, Erwin kisses his cheek and loses himself in the scent, in the softness, in the glorious image of his closed eyes and the scowl and…

"I cle…" Levi whispers in a hoarse voice, but he stops.

"Yes?" Erwin asks, sleepy because of how much the situation and the one who accompanies him relaxes him.

They look at each other; then they look at the erections and how their hips, moving slowly, seek the touch of one cock and the other.

"I'm clean," Levi says at last.

Erwin swallows a sigh. Is Levi telling him that he wants to receive? Clearly, that's what he does, and the idea seems to fascinate him when the heat that covers his cheeks rises to the level of a teenager.

"I knew you were a top, you bastard."

Erwin, though with some embarrassment, laughs when he hears him.

"I'm not that closed about roles," he says. "I don't pay attention to those things; I think sex is about something else."

About flowing, not cataloging.

"But I don't see myself sticking it to you. I mean, look at you."

Erwin holds another laugh when he looks at Levi. He smiles as he kisses him on the lips. Is he self-conscious about his height and size compared to him?

"That's a prejudice," he whispers against his mouth.

Levi clicks his tongue.

"I'm fucking 5’2”, I don't know how you expect me to stick it in."

Yeah, he's self-conscious.

"There'll be a chance to do it." As he says it, Erwin, calm enough for his astonishment and joy, sees the situation with amazing clarity.

Tonight is not the night to think about penetration.

The idea of doing it to Levi can't please him more, it can't seduce him more, because it's something that he has been imagining for the last few days despite the embarrassment, the shame, and the guilt that the slightest idea produced him during those nights. But nothing between them has to be easy, not in the context in which they are. Besides, considering how picky Levi is about cleaning, maybe…

Yes, it's better to go for something else.

But what else?

He looks at the two erections next to each other between their hips; then he reads the urgency, ignorance, and frustration all over Levi's face.

He wants nothing more than…

Levi only did it once. Many questions come to his mind, too many. Was it a man? Was it a woman? Did he do it? Did they do it to him?

Did he enjoy it?

Soon, he says to himself it's best to put those questions aside.

Because it's better to find out for himself how much Levi knows about his own body.

And stop thinking so much.

And do what he wants the most, to make this face end up deformed by pleasure.

He has Levi's left leg between his. Holding the mattress with his hands, placing them on either side of the waist under him, Erwin pushes Levi's thigh. When the legs open a little more, he rests both knees between them. Settled in between them, he looks at him once more.

Levi is nervous, he can tell, but most of all he's annoyed by the constant interruptions. Nothing could be more beautiful than that right now.

"If I live long enough," Erwin says with more emotion than he should experience in an explicitly sexual situation with a subordinate, "there are many, many things I would like to do with you."

.

.

.

Levi holds his breath. The weight of the words in line with the weight of the eyes and the body that pushes him against the sheets is too much for him.

The idea that Erwin wants to do things with him sinks him into a kind of vulnerability that makes him uncomfortable but also seduces him more than he can bear to admit. 

He bites his lip as he considers the extent of those words.

Why lie to himself? He wants Erwin Smith to do with him all the things he imagines in his perverse, cheesy old mind.

He wants everything he can give him, he wants it right now.

He moves his hip, thrusts Erwin with it; both are breathing hard from the friction they provoke, one more direct than the previous ones.

"I'm afraid you'll have to tell me what horrible things you plan to do with me. What weird ideas you must have, what twisted fetishes…"

Erwin's eyes change from the solemnity they have shown all night to look crazier, more alert, more voracious. It's lust, and how easy it's to look at it, Levi discovers, when it's shared.

Then, it's Erwin who thrusts; Levi grunts when he feels the new rubbing between the erections.

"I'm pretty boring, I'm sorry," Erwin replies as he lays his face between his right shoulder and cheek, his mouth breathing against his ear, making his skin stand on end. "But I'd like to…"

Another friction; Levi arches his back so that the movement generates a heat that suffocates him, which makes him desperate.

"What would you like to do?"

"To be inside you…"

Another touch.

"Such elegance to tell me that you want to stick it to me…"

Another one.

"Is it my impression or does it turn you on that I talk dirty to you?"

Erwin's hand is between their bodies. He holds Levi's cock and puts it against his. Levi doesn't gasp, sigh, or do anything; the hand covers both erections and strokes up and down with a slowness that tastes like torture.

And it's like having him inside; like he was penetrating him hard and fast.

"I…"

The fingers go down, go up; Levi holds his breath again.

"Tell me what turns you on, please…"

What turns him on? He never asked himself that, he understands amid embarrassment.

No one's ever done it before, either.

"I don't know what…"

Erwin puts his mouth against his ear.

"Don't you know if it turns you on when I tell you I… want to fuck you?"

Erwin accompanies the words with a touch that, now, he only dedicates to Levi's cock, an erratic but intense bob that makes him squirm on the bed.

Fuck, it does turn him on.

"I guess… it would be a shame if that deep voice of yours didn't speak dirty, future commander…" he says, unable to admit it directly.

The hand bobs around him once more; Levi closes his eyes tightly and leans his face towards Erwin.

"I see…"

They are no longer touches, not without regularity; soon, Erwin is masturbating him in his full length. He does it with a steady hand, without giving him time to anything. It's not fast, it's not rough; it's slow, it's deep.

Forceful.

"What do you think of that, then?"

The hand that moves in circular motions strokes him more firmly than before.

"Fuck…"

The hand speeds up very slightly.

"Shall I tell you more?"

Levi lifts his hip; he feels almost all his body numb, except for his cock, which is hard as a rock, and his thighs, in which tension builds up and drives him crazy, asking him for things he doesn't understand or know.

That he doesn't distinguish.

"Tell me more…" he says without planning it.

And the hand accelerates a little more.

"On my desk."

And more.

"What?"

And more.

"I want to fuck you there…"

And more.

Levi squeezes the sheets with his fingers by moving his hips up and down.

"You'll fuck me there, yeah…"

"You lying on the surface, me behind you, your pants half down…"

"You cheesy old man, you're such a cliche…"

"Where else do you want me to fuck you?"

"Above the fucking walls while the titans are rubbing themselves watching us… I don't know!"

What the fuck is he saying? He has no idea, he doesn't realize; he just feels the hardness, and the sheets under his hands and feet, and the tension climbing his numb thighs, and his hips moving up and down, looking for Erwin's hand by bouncing against the bed.

"You'll have to watch our backs…"

"I don't care. Just fuck me hard where it pleases you…"

"Where I please?"

"And how you please, I don't give a shit. Just…"

The hand leaves him. It's as if the cold from the outside hits him when the contact between their bodies comes to an end. But Levi fails to voice a complaint; Erwin gets on his knees between his legs and stretches out a hand towards his nightstand drawer. When he pulls something out, he closes the drawer in half; with the help of the candlelight, he examines how much liquid is left in a small glass bottle.

"I think it still works…" he says as he opens it and smells the contents.

"Is that oil?"

"Yes, it is."

"How long has it been since your last fuck?"

"About three or four years."

That long?

"Then that shit is useless, it must have been spoiled."

"I bought this bottle recently."

Erwin smiles. He looks embarrassed.

"Don't tell me you use it on yourself." Erwin nods; Levi can't stop a smile, even if it's crooked, because of how unusual it all is, this childish side of the most admirable man in this corps in a scene as intimate as this one. "I think it's great that you can have a good time alone."

"It's not something I do often if I'm honest; I do it to relieve tension, to get a good night's sleep. But lately, it's been almost imperative…"

They look at each other. Yeah, Levi thinks; it was the same even for him.

Seeking disgusting comfort in a dirty and insufficient heat, never true to what it means to be with the person who fills the mind, who captivates the skin.

But now…

Levi sees him pouring oil into his right hand. Erwin's face, serious, doesn't hesitate, doesn't seem self-conscious: he smears Levi's erection with gentle caresses, then underneath it. He smears his testicles, his entrance. He does it ceremonially, treating Levi as he would treat the most valuable, the most important thing.

Levi looks at the hand moving in slow motion; around his body, everything seems to be sunk in a fog, everything is blurred as if this room was detached from reality. He sighs as Erwin's middle finger squeezes his entrance. Normally, he would feel rejection for such intimate contact.

But Erwin is clean, so clean, that he can only feel the heat. It soothes him, every caress relieves his arousal, his anxiety, his violent emotions damaged by happiness.

But each caress also makes him want more.

Erwin massages around his entrance and draws circles with just the right pressure, neither too soft nor too hard. Looking into his eyes, with the hand that doesn't touch him, he looks for the pillow on which Levi has his head resting. He takes it away from him, carrying it under the lower part of his waist.

"Relax," he asks him.

An accurate stroke that subtly sinks into his entrance makes Levi, leaning on his elbows to watch Erwin's attention, lean back. He arches his back when, while still massaging that spot, barely touching its insides, Erwin jerks him off slowly, painfully with the other hand.

Then it happens.

Levi gets lost.

.

.

.

It's like that time of oral sex in exchange for oblivion - something in Levi has got out of hand. He can tell by the sounds that come out of his mouth as he touches him on his two most sensitive spots, grunts turned into high-pitched whimpers, moans devoid of violence, disgust, fear, and pain.

Sounds of pleasure, nothing else.

Levi's back arches completely, and his fingers cling to the sheets, and his toes stretch out and then squeeze hard. The head, leaning back, twists each time a little more, while the nipples, erect, rise when he lifts his chest from the bed.

It's sublime.

It's so sublime that Erwin, that is determined to deserve him, to deserve this moment, to deserve this creature of infinite talent and beauty that is as sweet as it's wild, asks his hands to do things right, not to give in to how little he thinks he deserves so much. It's not that he knows a lot, that he overflows with experience on this kind of situation; he knows enough, however, thanks to all he sometimes needs to do to sleep at least a little, those nights in which pleasure mixed with guilt is the only thing that sinks his reason, that silences it.

He only needs to observe and learn, to explore as if he were outside the walls. Yes, that is what he needs, to enter Levi and find the prostate, touch it, massage it, and draw conclusions from his reactions.

He only needs to learn to read Levi in this territory so different from the one in which they fight, to read his pleasure to exacerbate it in such sublime ways as the spectacular image that he gives him, this body shaking in the arms of ignorance, of the longing for things that don't seem tied to clear concepts in his mind.

He begs his hands to give this man a pleasure as perfect as his most intimate image, that of him arching his back on the bed, without restriction.

Wonderful.

.

.

.

A hand quickens around his cock and bobs, insistent. Another hand sticks a finger inside of him. The finger massages the edges of the entrance and stretches it with circular movements exerting the precise, divine pressure that his body requires. Another finger rests just below his testicles.

The first finger makes its way between his legs.

Levi stifles a scream by biting his left wrist when the finger sinks while the other squeezes him, as the hand masturbates him more and more insistently. He writhes, every muscle in his body numb, and when he opens his eyes he sees nothing.

It's blank. He is, the scene is.

It's everything.

Pleasure is the only presence he recognizes, this fire that thrusts him turned into a living being, the hands catapulting him to a peak he doesn't know which is, which he needs to reach as soon as possible.

Until that finger that penetrates him touches a sensitive spot of which he had no idea. What he experiences with the touch fills him with vertigo; instantly, it's as if he falls into a deep abyss.

What the fuck?!

He covers his mouth with the palms of his hands to stop another scream, trembling, as the finger massages the spot.

It's too much.

The finger no longer moves in and out; it caresses the spot, it moves around that damn spot, while the other finger squeezes more on the outside, while the hand masturbates more intensely. But he sees nothing and he doesn't understand what his hands and his feet are doing, what his back is doing as it arches and then hits against the mattress, or his hip as it lunges forward, or up, or down, or whatever it is that is happening as he falls into the fire like this, as he sinks or rises like this, spiraling into nothingness, without name or identity, like an entity that only knows how to enjoy itself.

The heat thrusts him once more, covers him, burns him. The fire comes from the three points that the hands touch and spreads through his veins. It's not a joke.

"I-It burns…" he mumbles. "It…!"

The hand goes down, the fingers push, the three attentions synchronized; Levi feels a thread of saliva fall from the corner of his mouth when he lifts his hip from the mattress only to hit it hard later, while he breathes fire, a fire that burns him to the root. It reaches spaces that he doesn't know, it extends to the beat of the imaginary rhythm of what the hands, the fingers, the person between his legs demarcate.

He shakes; he can no longer tolerate it. He looks for air, but there is no more, and when he opens his eyes he only sees the tears that have accumulated over his pupils.

He releases a sob, or a cry, or perhaps a simple sigh; he doesn't hear it, he doesn't hear anything, just the wet sound of the touches that increase its speed, that increase it more, that touch and masturbate and squeeze everywhere, all at once. He only hears the bed squeaking under him because of him, precisely, who shakes more violently than he's capable of recognizing.

Until his body stops fighting. How can he do that, if he only sees fire and tears? How can he fight, if he's on fire? Frightened by the overwhelming sensations that grow with the sounds, he just shakes. He rises when he gets lost; yes, he rises.

He flies!

"Er…!"

The heat explodes. It goes from his crotch to his thighs, and down to his feet, and up to his head. He squeezes his eyes so tightly that he sees only light and darkness, strangely shaped violet lights, absurd representations of a pleasure that takes everything away from him, that reduces him to nothing, that sets him free.

He screams, nothing stops him, and his throat hurts as he does so, because he doesn't have enough voice to scream or enough breath either. He’s empty, but no.

The pleasure that materializes in the hot liquid that spills over his belly is the only thing that fills him.

He gets lost in a spasm when the hands leave him, he caresses himself against the mattress because of how abrupt the cold is after so much heat. He rubs himself against the sheets between stifled gasps, between shivers that attack his aching back.

He catches his breath when the pleasure decreases. Still shaking, he looks to one side as he feels a cloth wiping his belly. Amidst tears, he catches something in the light: it's a hand, a huge and beautiful hand, which throws a handkerchief on the floor.

A body lies down next to him, embraces him gently, as if he were a petal, or silk, or a feather.

He sighs half asleep, half awake; Erwin lies between the light and his eyes. His face screams with emotions that find no definition in the language they speak.

No word could do justice to so much.

"Are you okay?" Erwin asks.

.

.

.

Although he already knows the answer, he asks, because he has never seen peace nor felt it, he has never had the right or the way to access something so precious.

Until today.

Because to see Levi rise to pleasure in this way, to see him fall to pieces on the bed and then rebuild himself like this, together with him, has been a supernatural experience.

Levi's sleepy eyes, full of tears that have not run down his face, are the most perfect image. Because if he had to choose one image to look at before dying, he would choose this one.

He would choose Levi, his face, his silvery eyes glazed with pleasure.

Because this image is the perfect representation of what Erwin would define as peace. Yes, that utopia, that which humanity may never achieve because of…

When he feels the need to cry and he restrains it with all his willpower, Levi nods, and what weakness he conveys by doing so.

"Shitty blondie," he whispers; his voice is a mess, he's sweaty and disheveled, there's a thread of saliva drying on his cheek, but the beauty is of a majesty that leaves him breathless, "this night was supposed to be for you, that you were going to have a good time… What the fuck did you just do to me…?"

Holding back tears as best he can before the image, that of this Levi drunk with pleasure, Erwin allows himself to laugh. What a problem to understand so quickly how dangerous is this happiness that pricks his heart from the inside, an insistent needle tearing him apart in the most wonderful way.

Because he adores Levi.

Because he loves him with his whole heart.

Because he has no right, not to so much, not him.

He caresses his cheek with extreme delicacy, hallucinating at every slight sensation that touching this skin gives him.

"I've never had such a good time before," he says. He smiles at the end, proud of the fact that his voice hasn’t broken, of having expressed himself well.

Of not denoting the love that, from one second to the other, condemns him to have the most beautiful weakness, the most perfect.

Although exhausted, Levi laughs with his usual sobriety.

"So cheesy…”

.

.

.

But he won't let him get away with it, not this time.

Determined to give back just a little of everything he has received tonight, Levi pushes Erwin to sit on the bed, on the right edge; he does so, and then Levi grabs one of his shoulders to sit behind him. Not without difficulty, dizzy, he notices the wetness on his cheek and dries it with one hand. Settling down beside him, he looks at him.

"You're still very hard," he says as he gazes between his legs.

"Don't worry about that, I…"

"Of course I do. It bothers me that people say _don't worry_ when it's obvious I'm going to worry as much as I want. Besides, I owe it to you from last time." Levi puts his feet on the floor; how weak his legs are, how tired he feels moving them. Enduring the fatigue, he stands up and sits astride Erwin, who allows everything to be done with surprise on his face.

"You owe me nothing. You don't have to…"

"Shut up, big guy. I like that you like to make me moan and lose my fucking mind, I appreciate it, but there is supposed to be trust between us, right?"

.

.

.

It's true.

.

.

.

"Right."

"Then you can ask me anything you want. It's not like I can do a lot of things; in fact, I don't know what the fuck to do and I'm exhausted, but you'll think of something, come on."

"But…"

Hearing Erwin's almost childlike whisper, Levi clenches his teeth. He doesn't quite know how to proceed. He can imagine, he can let himself be carried away, but he doesn't know what to do, he has no way of knowing when he's so numb, more satisfied than he's ever been.

Frustrated, Levi hugs him by the shoulders. Over Erwin's ear, he whispers the only thing he can think of:

"Guess what? You also have the right to lose your fucking mind."

.

.

.

Erwin closes his eyes. Sacred Levi who rests his jaw on his shoulder and remains so without looking into his eyes for giving him this moment of solitude which is not such.

With his eyelids trembling as well as his brow, putting his whole being into stopping the damned tears and the damned love that this man inspires inside him, he thanks him without telling him, mentally.

This is the first time in a long, long time that he feels this.

That it’s true, that he has the right.

No one's ever given him this right before. Because when guilt fills a heart, and sinks it, and chokes it with ghostly hands, anyone would want something like that, to receive a right.

Because when someone like him gets used to having no right to anything by looking at himself all the time in a mirror made with guilt, a right means everything.

Unknowingly, Levi has given him more than just pleasure in telling him that, Erwin thinks carelessly as he embraces him.

He has set him free.

With the love he has placed in his chest, with the trust he has given him, with the right he has given to someone like him, to someone who deserves nothing and won't deserve it, Levi has…

He opens his eyes, looks at the white shoulder in front of him, the muscles contracted by the tightening exerted in the embrace, the subtle tremor born of pleasure.

This is freedom.

.

.

.

The mouth kisses his shoulder, the hands touch his back, the fingers squeeze his skin. Levi allows everything, he lets himself be lifted by this arms, and be kissed, and be touched, and at no moment does he notice what is happening inside him. Nor does he notice it when Erwin lies on his back in bed and lays him on top of him. He doesn't notice it when Erwin explains what he will do and asks him if it's all right that way.

Levi only notices when he says yes.

Oil between his thighs, just below his testicles; oil on Erwin's erection, which has only needed a few kisses to regain its full thickness. Levi obeys everything Erwin asks him to do, to lie down on his chest, to put his legs together, to stand still for a moment.

The erection pushes between his thighs and a moan that comes from Erwin sweetens all his senses, all of them, even those that go beyond the physical.

Because he has noticed it.

He has never felt his vulnerability exposed to this extent, raw.

Erwin clings to him, one hand on his buttocks, the other on his back. He moves him, thrusting erratically between his tight thighs, and Levi, with his right cheek resting on the center of his chest, sunk in the carved flesh of this beautiful body, looks at the candlelight, which will soon be gone, rising, falling, moving faster, more intensely.

He has been hiding behind the ice for most of his life, ever since he discovered, when his mother died, that violence existed. And violence still exists and will always exist no matter how hard he fights to eradicate it, and things will never be perfect in the world, and nothing will ever give him back all that he has lost or give him some of all that he has lacked in misery.

But Erwin Smith exists.

He exists, and he moans his name as he thrusts between his thighs, lifting his hips against him a little faster, a little more abruptly. He exists by sobbing amidst soft, embarrassing moans, which he lets out of his mouth as his hands touch him, one caressing his buttocks, the other his back.

"Levi…" he hears him say when he turns his thrusts into a burst of heat that grows between his thighs, melting all his skin.

All the life behind the ice and Erwin Smith has destroyed it. He has, and he has taken him to another place, one where violence doesn't and won't exist, where all is fair and all is well.

One where guilt doesn't…

He holds his breath as he listens to Erwin's heart racing to the rhythm of his hips.

If this heart stops…

Driven by the power of that which oppresses his heart, that which has been dying for so long, that which is as fucked up as his mind, Levi embraces Erwin with all his strength as he wraps his arms around his waist. He holds him tightly, so tightly that it's as if he wants to break him.

But he doesn't have to.

There's no ice around either one of them.

There's nothing to break anymore.

"Levi…" he hears him moan again, and his hands mimic his, and they both hold tightly, and Erwin increases the speed of his hips as Levi exerts more pressure with his thighs.

Others _Levi_ follow, some more sensual, some more suffered, but they go on, and on, as Levi squeezes his face against the chest, against the wild heart that will pierce him at any moment.

"Erwin…" he says, knowing the heart will explode.

It does so when the final scream comes, the last _Levi_ as the cum stains between his thighs and the hands cling to his waist. Then, stillness, while the lungs recover the air and the heart beats normally again.

A trembling hand searches for his face and caresses him; Levi lets his jaw be lifted.

They look at each other, and the eyes show the same.

Without a drop of regret running down their bodies, yes.

They're fucked up for life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! ♥
> 
> I include some notes that you don't need to read with comments that I would like to add to this chapter:
> 
> About Levi and his ignorance, I know this enables very stereotypical dynamics in yaoi, but this moment of him in the intimate part of his relationship with Erwin seems necessary to me. It's a step in the process; things are not always going to be like this. 
> 
> About the extent of his ignorance, well, people are often more ignorant in bed than one would think. That Levi knows nothing about how men enjoy themselves seems a sad symptom of the society he grew up in and is in right now. Besides, even though he did it with Farlan in the past, he was never with a man who had experience with other men, and I honestly don't see him researching, not with the disgust that I brought up in this fic (which will find its explanation in some chapters, although there are already several clues out there). I know it sounds excessively clumsy from him, but it seems to me that, in that context, his ignorance is valid.
> 
> Levi is going to learn, he's going to stop being self-conscious and enjoy things. He just needs time.
> 
> And practice. ♥
> 
> Regarding roles, it's not a debate I like to get into; I think it's assigning labels to something that should be more fluid, more organic, and not schematic. For me, as a bisexual, being with someone of my own sex has to do with the naturalness of our bodies meeting, with what chemistry and instinct asks, not with choosing a role and playing it; being with my opposite sex, in turn, is exactly the same, enjoying being with the other person, not concentrating on being who my role is supposed to be (?). I think the two of them, in that context, would never give relevance to things like that, that the only thing they would want is to be together. Although, as I wrote in the chapter, I do imagine Levi a bit self-conscious about Erwin's immensity. Levi seems to me to be a little self-conscious about his height. That's what makes me think when he says things like "When did you all grow up?" and so on. It's one more nuance in what I consider a possible characterization of him, so I add it. 
> 
> If you want to talk about this, I'd be happy to. ♥
> 
> This fic has a plot and will become intense after certain events that are already close, but the part of exploring the bond between Erwin and Levi will always be central, and within that bond the sexual part will serve as an invitation to other things that will also be relevant to both of them.
> 
> From the heart, with all honesty: thank you very much for reading, commenting, accompanying, letting me share this with you. It means a lot to me in these crazy times the world is going through. ♥
> 
> Ah! I forgot: about the oil... Why oil and not lube? Because I find it more believable in a universe like SNK's. Maybe I'm wrong, but after reading about the story of lube (the things you do to write a fic XD), I thought it was the right thing to do.
> 
> If you need me, don't hesitate to write to me, for a chat or whatever. You can do it here, on Twitter (@NMTears707) or on Tumblr (@nomoretears-707). ♥♥♥


	20. XX

**XX**

A caress, rough yet honest, is drawn on his cheek when the sun begins to rise. 

Or that impression he gets in his dreams.

When he wakes up, it's eight o'clock in the morning. He's naked, his bed is warm.

But Levi is gone.

Though saddened, he understands that it was wise of him to do so, considering the situation. He would have wished nothing more than to wake up by his side, to see him sleeping with a relaxed frown, not scowling as he does every day, but this wasn't the time to allow such a thing. 

What a pity he couldn't have captured that peace on Levi's face.

What little right he has to yearn so much.

He proceeds as he does every morning, following the usual routine. Only by having a coffee in his office, he allows himself to think about the previous night, partly encouraged by this day off that the entire Survey Corps takes every year.

It was a journey to a point of no return.

He wants to remember the most sensual parts of the night, the image of Levi melted by joy, the sensation of rubbing between his tight thighs, but it’s not where he can return now, not feeling as he does, satisfied in body and soul despite how much desire overwhelms him. 

It's about love.

At what point did he fall in love with Levi? Falling in love, yes, like a carefree teenager. Maybe it was the first time he saw him, not the one where he recruited him, but the real first time, the one he's not sure Levi remembers.

When he saw him fly in the Underground, a free bird at the gates of hell.

Although it's stupid, if he thinks about it - to tell himself that he has fallen in love is stupid considering the concept behind the word. It's not possible to give it a title like that, to attribute such a cliché word to such a huge feeling. 

He's not in love. He's something else, something that is too significant to be explained in such ordinary terms, ones that would never manage to describe Levi's importance in his life and their battle. 

He has gone even further than he thought possible. This that Levi has generated, the storm his life has become, the one that ends everything, the one that makes him feel free as nothing has achieved in the past. How dangerous it is in this context. 

It's an inspiration, too.

He imagines himself outside the walls, before a titan. What if Levi fails and is eaten? What if he finds Levi's body among so many others? He's not a comrade anymore; now, he's the person who matters the most to him, the most valuable for humanity and for him for so opposed reasons.

In a selfish yearning, he discovers that he prefers to die first. He's sure that will happen because Levi is that talented and that talent will make him prevail.

But…

He tries to think reasonably: he can't change the context, not without killing all titans; he can't stop either, because he can't conceive himself in a situation in which kissing Levi's lips feels forbidden; he can't allow his emotions to affect his mission either.

Not with no regrets, not for Levi but himself and his unforgivable weakness, Erwin discovers that he has to ask for advice.

But from whom?

How wise is it to tell this truth to a third party?

Who should that third party be?

Someone knocks on the door. Erwin leaves the empty cup on his desk and opens.

"We're back," Mike says with a smile. "We're too old to stay away from here for so many days, so we did it today and not tomorrow." 

Erwin smiles back at him and lets him in.

Mike sits across the desk from him and asks him about everything that concerns the Survey Corps. Then he tells him the tiniest details of his journey with Nanaba. Finally, they talk about anything.

Erwin is amazed by himself - he feels unusually light. The conversation flows appropriately, he feels no anxiety, no guilt.

He only feels Mike before him, Mike speaking to him as he has always spoken to him, as one of his most faithful comrades. Someone with whom he gets along well, whom he appreciates, but with whom he doesn't share the same level of intimacy.

Because he has never had a bond like the one he has with Levi. Not even with Nile as far as friendship is concerned, even with Marie or Sam as far as intimacy is concerned.

None of them are even close to Levi. 

No words can measure how much of a protagonist in his life Levi is.

Mike is the person to talk to, he understands it when he realizes that he’s the only person he can trust who is in a similar situation. Mike himself confirms him that idea by interrupting the conversation to make a random comment:

"He cleans your office a lot, it already smells like him. Even you smell like him, I mean, like cleaning products."

A similar situation and a smell that only he can capture on this sickly level. Yes, it's Mike the person. 

But now is not the time.

"I guess it's inevitable…" Erwin whispers, staring at his desk. 

He's over-analyzing his emotions, exactly what he shouldn't allow himself to do here. He must get back on his feet. 

He can't talk to anyone unless Levi agrees. 

"I'm glad you're back. Give my regards to Nanaba, I hope to see her later. I'll try to finish some maps."

"You should get some rest, shouldn't you? Come on, future commander, go to your room and get some sleep."

Erwin smiles.

"I feel renewed today, the change of year fills us with mysterious hopes. I prefer to use my energy for something useful."

He has never been more in agreement with himself in affirming his good mood.

Mike nods and leaves. Erwin observes everything around him from his chair.

Feeling his body relaxed and his good mood giving him encouragement that is almost unfamiliar to him, he does exactly what he said he would do. 

Looking at the draft of the formation for the next expedition in March, he’s amazed by himself one more time thinking about Levi and smiling at the thought of him on that map, free as a bird and giving his best for the cause, for the truth.

He trusts him so much that he has no reason to fear for his safety. No, he doesn't! He also has no reason to ask for advice he doesn't need, not trusting as much as he does in his perception.

No definition will help make this context more favorable to their bond. No matter how much love he devotes to him, how much love he gives to him.

He can only enjoy this, doing it alone with Levi. Nothing else will be possible until this world can see what lies beyond the walls. 

Levi's presence in his life, meanwhile, won't be dangerous.

It will be a blessing that will cost him his entire life to earn.

.

.

.

He doesn't even ask permission to enter Erwin's room; he just walks in. He cleans up, removes the dirty sheets, puts on clean sheets that he takes out from the closet, and takes the rest to wash. He does so, washes methodically, and dries in the sun which fortunately has returned today. 

He cleans everything on his way, the hallways, the kitchen, the windows. At sunset, he takes Erwin's dry sheets to his closet after folding them neatly.

He returns to his room, takes off his apron, scarf, and cleaning gloves, and only at the window allows himself to think for the first time on the day.

He's fucked up, he is, but he doesn't give a shit anymore.

He feels his body as a kind of unknown entity that contains him; he has never been this satisfied. Is this another function that sex has in people's lives? It wasn't just about reproduction, it wasn't just about satisfying dirty desires, it wasn't just about to make it work as a kind of demonstration of authority, of power, of putrid shit, of…

Turns out it also relaxes more than anything he has ever done before.

He's even a little sleepy! It's amazing what…

"Uh, Levi. Happy New Year! Sorry I didn't… help you clean up."

Levi turns around when the door closes behind whoever just came in. It's one of his three roommates, the guy with the weird hair. 

No more solitude.

"Happy New Year, uh…" 

What’s his name? He has been sleeping in the same room with him for months and doesn't know it.

It's unacceptable considering he's a comrade.

The guy smiles. He doesn't seem bothered by his lack of memory.

"Gunther."

Levi turns his back on him.

"Gunther. Welcome to the nut house."

He hears Gunther leave the bag he was carrying on his shoulder on his bed, the one above Levi's. 

"Thank you. It feels good to be back. Although I'll have to get some exercise; I ate too much during the festivities."

Gunther laughs, then takes off his coat. Levi doesn't recognize what he's feeling.

He's devoid of anything that would negatively affect his mood.

He's still fucked up, but he has managed his shit properly.

It works.

Even for him, who thought little of himself and his shit when he decided to look for Erwin to urge him to manage his. 

"I need a little exercise. Why don't we spar?" he asks Gunther.

A silence that lasts a little longer than expected draws Levi's attention. He turns to his roommate with explicit annoyance on his face; Gunther looks terrified. Then he coughs, embarrassed, and nods not without shyness. 

"S-Sure! Of course, I don't have a chance to beat you, but…"

A subtle change in Levi's mouth, almost a smile, conveys what he feels when he looks at him again.

He doesn't have to be alone in the cold. 

"Don't exaggerate," he says as he walks to the door. "Come on, let's go."

Gunther's steps soon follow him, though a little silent, cautious.

He doesn't have to stay on the ice anymore.

.

.

.

Hanji enters his office at sunset. They stand still against the closed door, smiling.

"Are you feeling better?"

Erwin looks at them.

"What do you mean?" he asks, pretending he doesn't know what they are talking about even though he knows it from beginning to end. 

"Well, many here may not notice, I think you intimidate them too much!, but I spend enough time with you to have noticed how sad you were last night."

If anything has made Erwin to consider Hanji as another of the most fundamental members of the Survey Corps he dreams of building under his command, it's their talent to observe outside the walls. Hanji's curiosity is brilliant in ways that inspire him huge respect and even admiration.

But of course, they are also curious here, where their observations serve no professional purpose.

That makes them a particularly perceptive person who is not usually fooled when he pretends, at least not always, which is saying a lot.

"I'm fine," he says with his eyes locked on his draft. "The commander has confirmed to me that he'll be handing over command to me in March; I've been a little tense since then."

He doesn't look at Hanji at all.

He doesn't see coming what he hears:

"I'm glad Levi helped you."

His pen falls on the sheet. He lifts it to prevent it from staining the map; he does it in time.

He doesn't take his eyes off the surface of the desk, ever.

"I fucking knew it!" he hears. 

Uncomfortable, he asks himself to be calm, as calm as possible.

This is only the beginning, it seems. 

"Hanji, I appreciate your help and understanding, but I don't want to discuss personal issues here," he replies as he looks into their eyes.

He pretends to be offended; rather, he's angry, although not with Hanji.

With himself, because if they noticed something it means he hasn’t been careful enough. 

This will be a…

"Hey, hey, easy! I know nothing. Or well, I don't know that much, but I can assure you that nobody knows nothing but me. If I'm telling you, it's for a reason. You can ask me about it, go on! With confidence."

Erwin knows that Hanji is peculiar, that the word does no justice to the extent of their creativity and ingenuity, but he also knows something else.

Hanji is a good person.

Erwin asks, finally:

"Why are you telling me this?"

Hanji moves forward. They stop right in front of the desk.

"Well, for two reasons."

"Two reasons…"

"Yeah," Hanji continues. "First, I didn't notice it only in you as I told you that time; I had already noticed it in Levi, too. There was too much tension between the two of you. Although considering I'm the person you talk to most outside of work without counting the other, well, I was going to notice subtleties that other people could never notice, of course. What I saw by accident last night (I swear it was by accident, I was on my way to my room to get a coat when I saw Levi turn to the hallway where your door is! Then I noticed a candlelit until very late from outside when we went out to make a snow war with Gelgar… He beat me, even though he was drunk!) won't come out of my mouth; I knew it was going to happen, it seemed obvious to me."

Although Erwin is curious to know why Hanji had that impression, he decides not to ask.

But it was true, Hanji can be very perceptive when they want to.

"You're curious, aren't you?"

"Hanji, I don't like that…"

"Come on, Erwin. I've known you for years and years, we've been through a lot. Remember when we were squadmates?"

Erwin takes a deep breath.

"I remember," he answers. 

Hanji moves one step forward and puts one hand on the desk. 

"Everyone hated me, said I was unbearable, and because they draw conclusions about me, they didn't take into account my observations outside the walls. But you noticed it and made our squad leader see it." Hanji's smile widens before his eyes. "You were the first one to believe in me here."

Erwin is proud to have done it, though he doesn't mention it.

"Your intelligence doesn't deserve less than that," he claims.

"Yours doesn't deserve less either; you know perfectly well how much I believe in you. I mean… I'm not going to tell you that all day! I'm not someone annoying about this kind of thing, but I believe in you and I believe in Levi, I believe in what your vision and his strength can do. But I'm not a fool, Erwin. The pressure here can be too much for us, we all know that we all need relief from time to time and if it seemed obvious to me that the tension I felt between you two would come to mean something (I'm taking your silence as an affirmation, I'm sorry!) it was because of the way you are."

"And how are we?"

The smile gets even bigger.

"You're two loners. One doesn't have your vision by being someone who can easily relate to others. The same for Levi and his strength. That you guys ended up getting close to each other was natural. Who could understand each other the most?"

Although without betraying any emotion, or so he hopes, as he frankly doesn't want to extend this conversation too far, Erwin nods once more.

Hanji adjusts their glasses and tilts their head to one side as if they were trying to put another kind of attention on him. Did they notice something that Erwin didn't want them to see?

Have they realized how much it moves him to think about how natural it was for him and Levi to get close to each other?

"It's great that you're projecting your joy somewhere! I think it's very helpful here. Although I don't want to imagine what kind of person Levi must be in bed…"

Erwin rubs his temple. Hanji stops a little reluctantly.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be intrusive! It's just that Levi is so picky and weird and…"

"The other reason?" 

Hanji goes back. Apparently, Erwin's eyes weren't kind enough when he looked at them after his question.

"Well, well… All right, don't tell me anything! Second, telling you is a subtle way of giving you advice without getting into your business, of suggesting you be cautious so no one finds out. I mean, if I say something like this to Levi, he'll kill me. That's why I'm telling this to you!"

Erwin nods. He puts his pen down and crosses his fingers over his desk as he looks at them.

"I appreciate it, Hanji."

They nod, too.

"I promised Levi I wouldn't get involved anymore and that's what I'm going to do, but I appreciate you guys enough to tell you this: we live in a shitty world and we're surrounded by shit. You're men, we're in the army and you'll be a commander soon. I know you know that's still the most important thing."

"It is," he replies without hesitation. 

"Great, Erwin. Don't tell Levi I know. I need to have some fun!"

After that, Hanji says goodbye as quickly as they can. When the door closes, Erwin allows himself to stretch to release at least some of the tension that the talk has caused him. 

They have to be careful, yes. He may have to face rumors sometime; the very idea enrages him. Because it's true: they live in a _shitty world_. It's because they are trapped, but also because they live governed by an untrustworthy invented morality.

He owes no explanations as long as he keeps giving his heart out there.

But his heart doesn't belong to him anymore. It's Levi's, it's protected by humanity’s strongest soldier. 

That's why he's so light right now, that's why he's so good at being the one the context needs, the strategist, the future commander.

Levi released him from the weight of his own humanity.

Perhaps, he did the same for him.

He sighs as he turns to the window; the sunset receives him.

Hopefully, it was mutual.

Because if he has a little right to deserve it, then Levi has a thousand times more right to do it. 

.

.

.

He's good at taking combat showers; his comrades say he's the fastest in the entire Survey Corps. What they don't know is why he's so fast. 

In the Underground, you either had to rush to take a bath or never took a bath at all.

He's used to cleaning himself up quickly, it's his daily routine. Today, however, he needed this.

To take his time.

He bathes with ceremonial slowness, spending more time than necessary, in practical terms, to clean every corner of his body. This is not the first bath he has taken today, but while it's getting dark outside, it's the one he allows himself to take for 12 minutes, three times the time he spends daily. He doesn't ask himself why; he just does it, and as he rubs his legs with the soap he realizes, when he sees his own teeth marked on his left wrist, why he was longing so much for something like this.

It's like rediscovering his own body, the need to study it after what happened.

To clean it up not because it's dirty, but to make the neatness shine.

To perpetuate it on his skin. The neatness, the heat.

Him.

Erwin is boring and cheesy; he's not surprised. How he started to clean the rests of cum and oil from his thighs after he finished, the eternal moment he spent cleaning him up, doing everything he could to make him feel comfortable; the understanding behind the gesture, how Erwin showed him that he has paid attention to those details that screw with his mind, such as this one about cleanliness or that disgust regarding sex. And, of course, how he embraced him afterward, by surrounding him with one arm under the sheets, giving him heat without being sickly-sweet or invasive, one arm only so that the cold outside wouldn't attack him after so much pleasure.

The caress on his shoulder after he hugged him; how the caress stopped when Erwin fell asleep next to him.

The peace of his face leaning towards him, the frown without trembling, the closed eyes filled with satisfaction and not guilt, with the candle just behind him, his face a painting made of light and shadow.

So beautiful. The bastard is beautiful.

He's so beautiful for so many reasons. For so many, damn it.

Just the thought of it turns him on. The thought of Erwin reddens his cheeks and gives him a slight erection, which hardens more when Levi remembers every sensation during that sublime moment of pure enjoyment. He has never felt anything like it, so powerful and surreal.

He wants more.

He breathes loudly, certainly tense because of these violent but hot sensations; to have this kind of second sexual awakening after the resounding failure he experienced at the beginning of youth couldn't be more ill-timed. But how inevitable to feel turned on just by thinking of Erwin using his hands so wisely.

The bastard is either much more experienced than he wants to admit or he's even perceptive when it comes to fuck. There is no other explanation.

He doesn't understand how he did what he did to him. Is there a sensitive spot in men too? Like that one of women he heard about countless times in the brothel when his mother and Lola advised the younger ones not to…

Shit.

How different Erwin is from those pigs they described so much.

He finishes his bath and dries himself next to the candle he has lit inside the bathroom on the first floor. No one's around, and he still feels sleepy. 

How fortunate that the one who burns his skin without even being present is precisely Erwin Smith, a man who is not a pig. 

The person he respects for more reasons than he can reason with. 

.

.

.

He closes his eyes. Outside, the night has come, and with it the official invitation to look back, to stop gazing at the map in order to gaze at his memories. He does this by stretching himself out against the back of his chair, with his legs crossed and his hands on his lap.

It was extraordinary. Everything. Every detail. 

He has never seen sex as anything but a tool for relaxation. It's also a tool for expression, it's the way in which he finds it right to say feelings that would be difficult to describe in words, but he has never had such a strong bond with someone he has slept with, not to the point of feeling that there is really something to say. That's the point.

He has never been with someone like Levi.

His body is so honest. He has never seen anything like that, he doesn't remember it from previous experiences. He has never been with someone so transparent when it comes to intimacy. That detail, considering how much it costs Erwin to let himself be carried away and to be honest from the merely human, acquires an innovative nuance in his life, injecting energies that he never felt around him.

Levi is so different from him, so, so different. But he's so similar, yes, just as Hanji described it. 

They're compatible.

There is a balance, something that attracts, that works the same way. There's something very right that he has a hard time explaining, but he loves it.

He's so calm, almost like he's not himself. But he's full of desire, of a passion that transcends him, of inspiration as strong as Levi is.

He's overwhelmed, he understands, but in the best way. 

Someone opens the door without asking for permission to do so. It's Levi, of course. Erwin sees him close the door with a kick and walk towards him with slow steps. In his hands, he carries a tray of food that confuses him, until he understands that yes, it's late and he forgot to eat.

Levi leaves the tray in front of him and crosses his arms to his right.

"I forgot to eat, I…"

"It's not only important that you manage your shit; you have to produce it. So do me a favor and start eating the way a future commander has to; without food, that brain of yours won't work properly."

He has been strong all day; Levi's concern touches him so deeply that all he can do is to nod, to hold the cutlery, to eat while Levi watches him sit across the desk.

Accidentally or not, he looks at Levi as he eats, partly without realizing it, partly understanding why he needs to. Levi doesn't seem uncomfortable.

"Was it helpful to make you lose your fucking mind?" Levi asks when he finishes eating.

Erwin smiles from behind the napkin he uses to wipe his mouth.

"Yes," he answers without a hint of doubt.

They stare at each other as long as they did the night before; how easy it's to share this gaze.

How far they manage to get from the others by looking at each other as if they were running a thousand miles from wall Maria.

Their relationship, if he can call it that way, is a taboo here, it is, and they probably could never do anything about it, not without winning this war.

But how good it feels to have something like this in hell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! ♥
> 
> For several chapters I want to say this: I think that coffee doesn't exist in SNK, that Zeke, Bertholt and Reiner brought it from Marley (?), but I always put Erwin drinking coffee. XDDDD
> 
> Sorry! XD I honestly realized after I started publishing the fic. I'm picky about that kind of details but it just slipped my mind.
> 
> And in relation to the translation, I realized that I was translating very badly an expression in previous chapters, "nut house". I put "shrink" even though the meaning was different. I'm so sorry. I already fixed it! 
> 
> Consequences of not having beta, a thousand apologies.
> 
> The idea is that from now on we start seeing Erwin and Levi more like they are in canon. That is, to begin to see the consequences of this intimacy they share in all its facets. As comrades, as military men, as human beings. 
> 
> I hope you like what follows. ♥
> 
> Thank you very, very much for being on the other side. Thanks for sharing the link, for telling me nice things on Twitter, for the kudos and bookmarks, but above all for commenting. I'm very sensitive and insecure and I get really scared before and after uploading a chapter; each one of your comments fills me with energy, which in the middle of this quarantine fills double, triple, quadruple. It's a beautiful thing for me. 
> 
> Thank you very much. You have no idea how happy my days are when I read your comments. I can't thank you enough for all that it means to me right now for more reasons than I dare to say here. 
> 
> Thank you very, very much from the bottom of my heart. :')
> 
> ♥♥♥


	21. XXI

**XXI**

Three weeks since New Year; how promising is, for Erwin, everything that has happened up to this time.

January begins to come to an end quickly thanks to the inertia, the responsibilities, the different preparations. The snow hasn't left much to be done, but they have been able to train quite a bit for the expedition that is already scheduled.

On March 21st.

They still have two months ahead, but everything is flowing properly.

Even himself.

Erwin sighs as he stares at the distance as a group of soldiers train informally. Levi is training too, and because of his skill, he has all his comrades' attention.

It's fantastic.

Levi was right, that is what he thinks about as he looks at him moving freely through the trees around him, trusting his abilities but not boasting about them, in perfect balance: it was about managing his emotions properly.

He knows that it won't be so easy at a time when the pressure gets to be too much, that analyzing this in January is a mistake, but it's more than he has the right to ask for at this time in his life, in his circumstances.

Levi has given him peace. 

He has given him something else as well: the confidence of camaraderie inside the Survey Corps. They have spent many afternoons drinking tea and talking about the next expedition, they have shared ideas, and Levi has listened carefully to stories of all kinds, from recent expeditions to others that have remained in history. Erwin has told him about how the corps was formed, about every difficulty they have gone through to get a little closer to the truth, about how the three-dimensional maneuvering equipment was created and the revolution it meant in their way to fight. Because of how Levi arrived here, he didn't have enough knowledge about who they are.

Now, thanks to what he has learned, he reflects on ways to fight titans using his talent to do so. Erwin has marveled every second listening to him explain how to escape from random risk situations that Erwin has described to him as a mental rehearsal, a pastime that has filled a large part of their conversations. 

Levi's creativity is breathtaking; it's associated with a practicality that makes his ideas accessible to everyone. Words just aren't enough! No matter what kind of situation he imagines himself in, Levi always knows how to get out of it. It's as if he always knew what he has to do, his mind like a book with all the answers.

Levi is everything Erwin knew he would be when he first saw him fly: he's the next revolution.

Looking at him from the bark of the tree against which he rests, whose branches cover him with the shadows they draw around him, he thinks about how he has also become more accessible to his comrades. Far from those occasions when he used to arrive and leave training sessions without exchanging words with anyone, he now does the opposite. He listens to them, advises them if they turn to him to learn something new, sees them train, helps them, and lets himself be helped. He continues to be as he is, that man of eternal stoic gesture who is not skilled in social situations, but is no longer plunged into the darkness of the pain produced by the loss of his friends.

He even seems to have deepened a little in some relationships. For example, with Gunther Schultz, a member of Mike's brand new squad, Levi's roommate. He has seen them talking in the hallways more than once. Apparently, or Erwin got that impression, Gunther also cleans very well, which is why Levi has taken him on as an assistant for the general cleaning of the barracks which they do once a week. He has also seen him having tea with Ilse Langnar in the mess hall.

About the cleaning, Levi gave his class in early January. Many treated him like a lunatic; others highly appreciated his lesson. The barracks have never been so clean; many even seemed to strive to impress humanity's strongest soldier by cleaning.

He laughs about that thought.

Levi has admirers of all kinds.

He has seen some young female recruits looking at him with a certain lust. Some boys, too, although glances at the same sex are usually the most concealed here. 

The most entertaining part is that Levi doesn’t notice it at all. 

When someone tries to approach him with another kind of intention, he behaves with a notorious awkwardness, one that may seem like antipathy even though it's not, or not entirely. He behaves like someone who doesn't understand, beyond his strength, what kind of opinions people have of him. 

It has amused him to observe these details during every dinner in the mess hall, eating with Levi, who doesn't leave his right side for a second. 

He thinks about that in detail: Since New Year, as long as duty doesn't lead him anywhere else, Levi stays by his side. Always, without exception.

Sometimes they eat in his office, sometimes Mike and Hanji join them. But generally, no, they are alone, in front of everyone and the intimacy of his office, but alone at last, in their microcosm. The change in their relationship has been noticeable, because of the abruptness, and he's not sure if it was a good idea to allow himself this untidiness, but something gave him confidence during the first days of the month.

Commander Shadis.

"You tamed the beast," he said at the end of a meeting shortly after returning from his trip to Shiganshina.

Erwin smiled somewhat uncomfortably, which he tried not to communicate to his face. 

"He needed to trust his comrades, nothing else," he replied. 

Out of prudence, he has tried to pay attention to the gossip in the hallway to detect some sort of suspicion that might harm them. They seem to be doing something right despite the time they spend together since no one seems to suspect how close their bond is.

However, also…

_He looks like the squad leader's thug._

_Thug?_

_Yeah! Like a bodyguard._

_Considering that the squad leader forced him to come from the Underground is pretty weird…_

_Erwin took him under his wing, reformed him, and made him his servant! That way he'll make sure he doesn't die outside the walls. How clever!_

_He's a manipulator, that's why he'll be a good commander if it's true that old Shadis will resign._

_Plus he doesn't have to clean up. How I fucking hate cleaning up! I wish some cleaning freak would follow me around the base like a dog, sweeping up after every fucking step I take._

He can survive that kind of gossip. He indeed put him under his wing, in fact, but it was the other way around.

Levi did, and he can't help but be grateful.

Not with this peace that fills him so unusually.

"Erwin?"

He looks at his left: it's Nanaba. Although she is usually serious and focused, this time she looks at him with some sympathy that Erwin doesn't recognize as frequent in her.

"Levi has changed a lot," she says as she looks at him. Erwin nods; there's nothing more to say, not when things are so obvious. "At this rate, he'll have a squad in very little time."

"It's what he deserves," Erwin replies, "his talent is undeniable."

"But don't you think someone might take it the wrong way? I mean, some outstanding soldiers have been here for a long time and they also deserve a squad."

Jealousy? Although he scowls a little, Erwin nods once more. He's already considered this possibility.

Levi's rise in the Survey Corps will be a categorical, as violent as a cannonball. It wouldn't be surprising if it generated conflicts. 

"To be promoted shouldn't be a competition," he replies; "it's about finding those soldiers who can best contribute to our fight. Levi is outstanding, there is no record of a soldier with his talents; to ignore him would be a mistake which, as the next commander, I shouldn't allow myself. It would make me a fool."

"I know, Erwin." More serious, looking more like the Nanaba Erwin knows, he sees her looking at Levi once again. 

Unable to help himself, Erwin does the same; Levi makes a spectacular spin in the sky, and Nanaba's pupils, which Erwin looks for right after that, dilate before him.

"It seems to me, judging by how little I have treated him, that Levi is not self-centered," Nanaba says.

"He's not."

"But others here are." They look at each other and remain silent for a moment which, though it's no more than that, it feels as long as awkward. "I don't know why I'm telling you this, Erwin: I'm sure you have already considered that possible situation." Erwin confirms it by saying yes. "No one can deny that he even deserves to be second in command. He deserves to be right behind you, to be the soldier who gathers all the soldiers behind you, but jealousy is already floating, soldiers who have struggled from expedition to expedition are starting to get angry after the news that he'll be the one to accompany you to Mitras. I know you understand why I'm warning you."

She's telling him that the problem exists; she's confirming that that possible situation will be a palpable and real one sooner or later.

"I know and I thank you," he simply says. "It will be enriching to deal with this situation."

He doesn't lie: handling the ego inside the corps is important. As a future commander, he must be trained to do so.

"But there's no doubt about it, right? Look at him. I can't believe what he can do. It's as if he's looking at the world at a different speed."

Erwin smiles when he sees him moving like that bird he becomes every time he puts on the three-dimensional maneuvering equipment. He falls on the ground with remarkable dexterity, turns around, and distances himself from his comrades. While asking him questions, they look at him just as Nanaba is doing.

Just as he must be looking at him, full of admiration.

"He was born for this. I find no other explanation," Erwin says as he turns his back on Nanaba. He has to stay calm and not flatter too much, although frankly, he could spend the whole day talking about his favorite wings. "I'll go to my office, I think I'm just lazing around."

Nanaba laughs.

"Sometimes lazing around is necessary."

"Indeed."

Erwin leaves. As he walks, he thinks about the latter, lazing around, what he calls _lazing around_ lately, even though something so important doesn't deserve a title that underestimates it in that way.

Sex.

Since New Year, he has been very focused on his work. The commander has assigned him to check and complete all sorts of documents that he has had to get ahead due to the trip, which has kept him busy. That is why Erwin hasn't looked for Levi once. Every moment shared alone in his office, the mental rehearsals, the history lessons, the shared tea, the dinners, the lunches; everything between them has revolved around work. He has wanted to hog him, every time he sees him he wants nothing more than that, but he has asked himself for patience so as not to make him uncomfortable. Although he has allowed himself to look for him in his dreams, when he puts out the candle before going to sleep, when he leaves the book he's reading on the nightstand and closes his eyes to get out of there, to laze around fantasizing, to lose himself between Levi's legs in another kind of mental rehearsal.

To his surprise, however, Levi did look for him.

And how.

He thinks about it a few doors away from his office, without stopping to walk forward; it was ten days ago. Although they had said goodbye after dinner and one last tea, Erwin didn't go to sleep as he said he would. It was three o'clock in the morning, and there he was, working.

Passionate about his tactics, he spent hours imagining possible situations. Then he started reading strategy books written by former commanders, those from the times when they only fought titans with cannons. Then, he began to write down vague ideas, ones of long-range weapons, mobile cannons, mortars for explosives, although… Giant spears? He looked at his pocket watch; it was three twenty-two o'clock in the morning. He lost himself in the idea of some sort of giant spear mortar and imagined himself telling Hanji about it.

"Blondie, you should have taken a shit and gone to sleep by now. What are you doing at four in the morning looking like a sex pervert while you're staring at the ceiling?"

Impossible not to be startled by Levi's voice. He looked at the pocket watch: four two o'clock.

Damn.

"I lost track of time," he said as he scratched his head. His hair was a mess, and he could feel the dark, puffy circles under his eyes. 

Levi locked the door. The simplicity of that detail made his skin crawl.

But something else caught his attention: except for the leather straps and the jacket, Levi was wearing his uniform. 

"Why are you dressed like that at this hour?"

Levi shortened the distance between them as he walked through the office in slow motion. Crossing his arms on the other side of the desk, he frowned.

"What right do you have to ask me that?" he said as he studied his clothes. "I sleep in my uniform."

"Wh…?"

"Habit. Anyway, when the fuck are you going to sleep? You can't stay up all night thinking about kinky stuff."

Erwin felt like a child. Looking aside, he answered honestly:

"I was thinking about titans. Now I'm not even sleepy…" he admitted.

"Shit. Is that why you stay up? Do you have the same fetishes as four eyes? You fucking disgust me."

Then Erwin realized something.

"Why do you think I was having naughty thoughts?" he asked as he leaned against the backrest.

To his surprise, because it's something he only does when he brings him dinner after forgetting to go down to the mess hall because he's busy at work, Levi circled his desk and stopped next to him. Confidently, he leaned against the edge of it, next to his left knee. 

Just having him so close sent a chill down his spine that was more violent than recommended, than acceptable. 

"You didn't see your face. You looked like a pig staring at a teenage girl's legs; that smile of yours is so creepy."

Then Levi looked at him with a suffocating stare, full of unreadable longing, as violent as all the sensations that, with that astonishing simplicity, he was provoking just by being there. He seemed not to blink as he looked at him, it was as if he was trying to tell him something. 

Levi's legs separated a bit when his breathing accelerated; Erwin noticed the erection under his white pants. He saw it grow, swell a little more every second.

Just for staring at him, nothing else.

How easy it was for him, then, to understand the situation.

Levi, with a charming clumsiness, was trying to seduce him.

As he moved his knee to enclose Levi's legs with his, to squeeze each side of his thighs with his, Erwin, guided by instinct, by the heat that emerged from him until the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, allowed himself to be carried away.

"I don't like teenage girls," he said.

"You don't like them?"

"No."

"And what do you like, you naughty old man?"

"You."

"Me?"

"You…"

"Me how?"

The bulge grew inside Levi's pants. Erwin breathed heavily at the sight, his mouth dry, lips parted, eyes half-closed, knees restlessly enclosing two trembling thighs.

"With no clothes," he replied.

Levi unbuttoned his pants immediately as if his words had been an order, not the description of an ideal so fantasized every night. Erwin, seduced by the urgency of Levi's hands, was also seduced by the roughness with which he pulled his pants down to his knees. 

"Like this?"

Erwin pulled the chair towards him. Numbed by the tension to which the image induced him, he reached for Levi's cravat and untied it with one hand, tugging it; each pull speeded up both their breath a little more. Then he unbuttoned all the buttons on Levi's shirt and opened it in front of him. The pallor of that scarred torso gave him an embarrassing erection.

Beautiful.

"That's better," he said.

Levi stared at him as intently as before. Although his face was still stoic, his eyes looked different.

They were melted, on fire.

Erwin tried to hold him by the waist, thinking about kissing him, stroking him, giving him pleasure, and seeing him writhing. 

Levi didn't let him do that. 

Suddenly, he turned around with his face as red as blood.

"Fuck me, go on," he said as he bent face down over his desk, his buttocks sticking out at the edge, pale and round, absolutely magnificent.

"Levi…" Erwin whispered, not taking his eyes off his buttocks, neither between them.

The primitive temptation to penetrate him made his blood run cold for a significant moment. 

"Go on, just…" Levi lost his breath, or that was what Erwin thought when he stopped talking. He continued after failing to control his breathing. "Dammit, just get off. You said you wanted to fuck me here."

Erwin was impressed. Levi took seriously that fantasy he had described to him on New Year's Eve.

Levi paid attention to detail. 

"I don’t have oil."

"It doesn't matter."

"It'll hurt."

"I don't fucking care… I want you to fuck me."

It wasn't physically possible to get more aroused, Erwin didn't conceive the possibility of getting harder than that, before that majestic image of Levi's body pleading on his desk, asking for him in that explicit way.

But no. He had no oil, he couldn't, not if it was going to hurt. 

That wasn’t the way he wanted it.

Levi deserved more than that, more than a desk at four o'clock in the morning, with his clothes half off, with the implicit obligation of having to do it quickly, untidy.

No.

He got up. He hugged Levi from behind, chest to back. He stroked his belly with one hand open, resting on one cheek the other. Taking advantage of the height difference, he kissed him like that, holding him from behind. 

What began slowly ended up speeding up, becoming passionate. When Erwin felt Levi give in completely, when nothing but his arms allowed him to be on his feet, he let himself fall into the chair, placed him on his lap, touched him between his legs. 

"Erwin, what the fuck…?"

The rest happened quickly, so quickly that he doesn't remember it in detail, but at the same time he does, though not with a clarity that can be expressed in words, but with one that can only be described with sensations. He simply masturbated him. When Levi began to whimper, he sat him down on the edge of the desk, facing him; instead of his hands, he used his tongue first and his mouth later.

Levi stopped a scream with his hand. Erwin looked up as he sucked him off.

He was looking at him fascinated, in detail. It was as if Levi was paying attention to him; as if he was studying him.

As if he was trying to learn?

Right after that, Levi looked away. After he came inside his mouth, he sat there before him, shaking out of pleasure, until Erwin helped him to adjust his clothes with a smile on his lips.

"Thank you for this."

"Are you thanking me again for letting you suck my dick?"

Erwin kissed him on the forehead, hoping that touching him with those lips that had just done what they did didn't make Levi uncomfortable.

They didn't, or so it seemed to Erwin, who continued to help Levi with his clothes. In the end, he combed his hair with his fingers.

"Thank you for letting me share this kind of thing with you."

Levi looked at him. One second later, he stopped doing it.

"Cheesy old man," he said before to leave.

He recalls Levi's eyes as he sits at his desk, weak rays of winter sun hitting the back of his chair. Perhaps he still finds it a little hard to take that side of their relationship naturally. He still hesitates, unable to ask for it himself.

He still needs Levi to give him the right. 

He arranges the papers he has before him. There are three days left to travel to Mitras, new tensions will invade him, it will be four exhausting days full of meetings, audiences, even a gala in the palace in which he will have to be sharp to play the game of power properly. 

Hopefully, there will also be some time to be with Levi alone in bed. 

He has worked very hard over the last few weeks, has given whole nights to his work, and if he has eaten, he has done it at Levi's insistence. He no longer feels the pressure he was putting on his shoulders after the announcement of the commander's resignation, he's calm enough to see things clearly, but he knows he'll start putting pressure on himself again. Deep down, the anxiety about the trip to the capital is only causing that. 

Hopefully, in a few days, after giving everything for the Survey Corps and the budget it needs to get through this year, he'll deserve at least a little distraction.

Lazing around, even if those words are still unfair.

It’ll be the first time that they are far away from the base, together and alone in a place where there are no titans. If there is ever a time to stop holding back and let himself be carried away by…

Levi opens the door. He brings a steaming kettle with him. 

"And training? I saw you telling something to some recruits," Erwin asks him as he separates two different reports from the papers he has in his hands.

"Gunther stayed with them." Levi sits in the chair right in front of him, in the middle one of three. 

"Schultz seems to be getting along with you."

"You're not jealous, are you? Because I hate jealousy and I won't hesitate to tell you to fuck off if you make me a scene."

Erwin laughs. Somehow, the question pleases him.

"It's not jealousy, don't worry. I've never been jealous, I think I have no time."

"Better that way, because I have something to tell you about Gunther."

Curious, Erwin stops reading the report that Hanji gave him this morning with sketches of a new type of flare.

"What about him?"

"I want him in my future squad."

Erwin gets surprised and in a positive way. He hasn't considered the possibility that Levi was training so often in a group, at least in part, to look for candidates. 

He holds a smile; if he analyzes it, Levi has been working on a lot of things. On teaching how to clean up, on knowing more about the Survey Corps, on learning how to write reports that Erwin has delegated to him at Levi's insistence, even on improving his handwriting, which he's achieving notoriously if he compares it, for example, with Hanji's messy handwriting that is in front of him right now. 

He's working as hard as he is, if not harder.

After a silence, Levi continues:

"He's serious, he's constantly focused, he asks himself questions, he's trying to learn and I think I'm getting along with him; he understands me. He's not that strong, but he's skillful and he can make decisions. He reminds me of Farlan for that."

"Excellent, Levi," he says; he's proud of the progress he's making as a member of this corps. "It's something we'll rehearse on the next expedition; I trust we can leave the walls in June or July and that you'll have a first squad formed, as long as the budget supports it."

"I'll keep watching."

"Very well."

Although the professional part of the talk doesn't continue, Levi remains on the other side of the desk. Erwin takes the opportunity to make some comments about the trip while Levi prepares to make tea. They comment about things they can't forget to pack, about the first meetings they'll attend…

"We'll have to buy more tea," Levi says as he shows him his nearly empty birthday present.

What a daily statement. Erwin torments himself for adoring this detail too much.

"There is a lot of variety on Mitras. I'll buy you several packages."

"I have a salary, you don't have to do that for me."

"But I want to."

"You cheesy and fickle old man. Do you know where we are going to stay?"

"Yes, at the Survey Corps branch on Mitras."

"Does anyone use it?"

"There's a constant watch that changes once a week. Mostly for logistical and courier service reasons."

"…Do they clean?"

The sensitive issue, again. Erwin increasingly notices how picky Levi is about cleaning; he reaches limits that denote a sick obsession. He doesn't hesitate to get dirty when he's training, it doesn't bother him, but outside of duty, he doesn't stop.

Perhaps because he also manages when he fights.

He doesn't reveal the curiosity he suddenly feels when he thinks about it from that point of view.

"It's their duty, Levi."

"But you don't know if they do their job."

"It's been a long time since I have stood guard at branches; it's something recruits do, it gives them valuable experience in communicating with the Garrison and the Military Police."

"Why didn't you ever send me?"

"The commander and I consider your presence here necessary to inspire our comrades."

"Uh…"

They look at each other. The commander suggested sending him shortly after the death of his friends, but Erwin suggested that he shouldn't do so precisely because of what he just said.

And because he didn't want him to stay away from him, perhaps.

"Did you clean up?" Levi asks later.

"Not always, although I did try to keep clean. It's not a very large building."

Levi stands up and walks to the door.

"I'll go to the commercial area and buy some cleaning supplies. You drink your tea; I'll buy some more, too."

Erwin thinks about stopping him, but he doesn't. Thoughtful, he wonders what the problem with cleaning is, looks for clues in previous talks, for details that have seemed out of place.

No, he has no idea.

Probably, he says to himself, he's over-analyzing it. Life on the Underground was hard, very hard, as he described to him when they talked about prostitution, about how women died young and beautiful behind the back of a world that gave them no kind of validity.

It must be the Underground and everything he still ignores about details of Levi's life.

Consequences. He doesn't blame him - it's not always easy to deal with a consequence, especially being part of the Survey Corps. 

He just wishes Levi could feel a little lighter, not so anxious at the thought of getting dirty away from the battlefield.

He just wishes he could learn how to relieve his anxiety.

When he struggles with the need to lose himself in that thought, someone knocks on the door but opens without a response.

It's the commander.

"Erwin, I need to ask you a favor. This is something I usually do personally, but considering you'll be the commander soon, it's good to establish relationships beforehand."

Erwin ignores everything he's doing when Shadis sits in the chair Levi took minutes ago. He looks a little more thoughtful than usual.

"Tell me, Keith," he answers him with the informality that is common between them under certain circumstances, stirring with his spoon the tea he hasn't touched yet. 

"I already told you about Dr. Jaeger, right?"

"The doctor from Shiganshina."

"That one. Grisha is an old friend and an excellent doctor. His services are required even by people in the crown. He often manages to get us medicine in unconventional but effective ways. You can imagine what I'm talking about."

Contraband, of course. 

Being the Survey Corps means having a large part of humanity against them. Erwin knows this very well, he knows how many times they have to resort to contraband to get quality supplies at affordable prices. Dealing with budget and expenses is not always easy; he has been the commander's right-hand man when it comes to numbers for years. 

Erwin knew that some of the medicine inventory came from contraband, but he had never heard of the commander's contact. It's the first time that Shadis mentions him out of some anecdote about that very competent doctor he knew in his youth.

"You must meet with him to build a relationship that will allow you to have him on your side when you become commander; the supplies he gets are vital to our cause."

Erwin nods, though one thought remains with him.

Commander Shadis is a man deeply convinced of their fight, but he's more idealistic than he is. Perhaps for having lost his father the way he did, Erwin believes he's a little more aware of how important it's to play the game inside the walls.

Someone silenced his father.

Someone doesn't want people to think a little bit beyond what they have the right to think under the rules established by the owners of power. 

If Dr. Jaeger sees people related to the crown, perhaps he can be a potential ally in getting some kind of information that will serve their purpose. Because it's not about killing titans and nothing else. It's never been just about that.

It's about finding out who is willing to kill those who try to get close to the truth by any kind of means, even mere speculation between a father and his son. 

It's not bad to have good information up his sleeve on Mitras, something that helps to keep the Survey Corps on its feet.

"I also wanted to talk to you about Levi."

"Yes, of course."

Shadis puts his elbows on the desk and leans a little more towards him.

"He obeys you, I've seen it with my own eyes. They call him your thug, your dog, your bodyguard. You've tamed the beast, so you must measure his behavior on Mitras. Levi doesn't have your temperament, he needs to learn to behave. If he wants to be quiet and play at being mysterious, fine."

Erwin nods once again, totally agreeing with Shadis even though he doesn't like to think of Levi as anything other than human, as if only his strength defines him.

The rules, the rules…

"That's what I suggested to him, actually," he says. "Geniuses don't need to talk; the greater the mystery around them, the better for our interests."

"Good press," Shadis says.

"Good press," Erwin repeats. 

It's a fact that mystery dazzles people. They need people to see in Levi what he is, humanity's strongest soldier. 

The human is even better than the soldier, but it's better to preserve that side of him. 

Especially when Levi himself doesn't seem passionate about the idea of showing it to those he calls _pigs_. 

Better to save him from discomfort.

When the commander leaves, Erwin gets lost in his thoughts, all related to Levi. He blames himself a little, but rewards himself by reminding all his effort; it's not something that helps him a lot, but at least it succeeds a little. 

He gave that money to Sam's father to feed poor children. He worries about his comrades and accepts to give them some advice from his talent, the one that he never tries to boast to anyone, but that his comrades recognize him.

Levi does show his human side. It's a peculiar side because Levi is, but it's real. 

The problem is that the closer Erwin gets to him, the more he notices certain difficulties he has. His anxiety about cleanliness, his nervousness when a kiss lasts too long, his general discomfort with most people, how he disarms in his arms when he stops fighting against what he feels to lose himself in the most sublime side of sex.

These are not flaws, Erwin doesn't see them as such; they are peculiarities that show a series of possible consequences of events that maybe were traumatic for him.

He wants nothing more than to be strong, strong enough not only to get to the truth that he promised so much to give to that grave.

He wants to be strong enough to take care of the most precious person he has at his side right now.

He doesn't quite understand why Levi does certain things. He doesn't even understand how it fits into his peculiar nature to walk beside him as his right hand every hour of every day, as if he always needed to be sure that he's okay, that he's focused, that he's not succumbing in the arms of guilt, even that he's fed and in a clean environment. Maybe he's just worried about him and not much else, but…

Actually, he loves it. 

He regrets holding his forehead. He loves that Levi cares about him. The fact that his way of doing it’s different from anyone else's doesn't bother him; it seduces him twice as much. But he's asking for too much, maybe. Even though he's not, he never asks for anything that Levi does.

But, but, but…

He's over-analyzing, again. 

"Concentrate," he asks himself.

As he writes down more notes on Hanji's draft, trying to read the messy handwriting of the brightest mind of this corps, Erwin quickly dismisses everything about the journey: they can't sleep together on Mitras, it's too dangerous given their position. Maybe there won't be time for anything to happen, it's a reality even if he doesn't like the idea of accepting it. 

It's better to concentrate on work, and exercising his mind, and remembering how to get what he wants by persuading the benefactors of the Survey Corps. 

Levi can't become his top priority.

.

.

.

He returns at nightfall, just in time for dinner. After eating on his right, the common when they are in the mess hall, Levi leaves Erwin, who remains there chatting with Hanji and Moblit about some reports. Once in his room, he sits on his bed and looks at the floor.

He feels weird.

He has been feeling weird all day, in fact, even more so at this very moment. It's as if he wants to do a thousand things at once, but has no energy for any of them; it's as if he can't stop thinking about the only thing he can think about lately.

Erwin.

It's starting to make him uncomfortable. Not Erwin himself, but the fact that he wants Erwin. Because he wants him, he does it in ways that don't even make sense, but giving in is not easy, not for him.

He doesn't know how to get close to him, he doesn't understand which moment is good and which isn't. He's too awkward to manifest these needs and it bothers him to the point of losing his mind. Normally, he wouldn't give a shit about feeling this way, but now everything seems different.

He only knows he wants more.

A more that has no definition inside his fucking brain, that fills him with energies that only work for one thing, the one that has nothing to do with why he lives in this nut house. 

He starts sweeping the room even though he did it this morning. He tries to concentrate on the activity, but no.

Everything is clean.

It's about Erwin. The only thing he can think about now is Erwin, a closed door, the heat that flows around them both when they touch.

Damn!

He leaves the broom, walks at full speed through the hallways, and up the stairs, reaches Erwin's office door. He opens it, looks at Erwin from the threshold, checks that he's alone.

He closes the door and holds the key, but doesn't turn it.

Erwin's eyes, surprised, blink before his image. Unlike the previous two times, this one he seems to understand what Levi is proposing.

"You can close the door if you want to," he says to Levi.

"Do you want that?"

Erwin, serious and with his eyes locked on him, nods.

"I do."

Levi obeys.

He walks in slow motion towards Erwin, leaves the desk behind, and faces him when he stands to the right of his chair. He stops, as he usually does when he's in front of this man who is taking away his ability to keep himself as he has always kept himself, disinterested in sex, like an other, something unrelated to that filthiness so typical of pigs.

Erwin is like a pair of eyes that allow him to see things from another perspective.

How it overwhelms him.

He's also a sensation, an indescribable something that knows very well how to get under his skin. Because that is what he feels before Erwin, Erwin who looks at him in a lustful way that comes and goes, his dilated pupils before Levi; he feels that Erwin not only touches his skin, but slips under it like a different entity from this one that is him, but identical in some mysterious way.

Levi understands that he can no longer resist, that even if he doesn't know which moment is good and which isn't, he has no way to stop asking for this, to want Erwin on top of him.

To let himself be consumed by the heat that cleans him in a different, necessary way.

Wonderful.

Erwin stands up. Hugging him over his shoulders, he bends down before him to kiss him on the lips. He does so slowly, breathing against his mouth, his lips moving first with caution, then with passion.

This is what he wanted, yeah.

Heat.

Sex.

The person who inspires not only respect, admiration, devotion, inspiration.

This bastard who, as far as sex is concerned, has awakened in him a dangerous addiction that, as if he was a stupid teenager, he has no fucking idea how to suppress.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. :')
> 
> I don't want to bore you with long notes, but let me thank you very very very much for how happy you are making this Argentinian you don't know, but who somewhere in Buenos Aires is smiling because she's sharing this fic with you.
> 
> After bad experiences in my old fandom, coming here, to Eruri hell (?), was very scary at the beginning. Now, although sometimes I feel very embarrassed because of how introverted I am, because of how insecure I am, the truth is that I'm happy.
> 
> It's nice to enjoy writing at this level again, to do it from a purer, more genuine side, without pressure, without vertigo.
> 
> It's really crazy to think that I'll never forget this fic. Not only because it gave me the opportunity to meet again with writing after the worst moment of my life, but also because it's making me very good company during the quarantine. It's the excuse to contact you as well, and that is beautiful and fills me with happiness.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, commenting and supporting me. THANK YOU. ♥
> 
> And finally, let me dedicate this chapter to Kajasame and Deb for always sharing my fic on Twitter and supporting me when I get a little sensitive. It means a lot to me. 
> 
> Thanks you everyone for being at the other side of the screen! ♥


	22. XXII

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning! This chapter has references to suicidal thoughts and depression. If this content is sensitive to you, I recommend you be careful as you continue to read it. 
> 
> If you need anything and I can be helpful, please count on me. I'm at your complete disposal. ♥️

**XXII**

He looks at Levi, and it's as if the world stopped for an instant as magical as disturbing. That is what it feels like due to the power of the image, to the beauty. 

But something doesn't please him.

Having no way to make this situation a better one for both of them. 

Despite the circumstances, he wants to, but he has no way of doing it the way he would like to, not here, not like this. So he fixes what he dislikes with what he has at hand: he takes his jacket, folds it, and puts it under Levi's head, who seems to want to tell him something when he does so. 

He doesn't say anything; Levi just gets comfortable on the jacket. Erwin smiles at him.

They can continue.

Because even if the carpet he put in front of the fireplace is not a bed or his folded jacket is not a pillow, they can imagine that they are, that everything is ideal.

Being who they are, maybe this is more than they can hope for.

Levi is naked; Erwin just keeps his pants and underwear on. Thus, Erwin raises his right hand and leaves it still, suspended in the air without even touching Levi's cheek below. Containing the need to touch him, he moves through the air that keeps them apart, caressing it with fingers that tremble not because of the cold, nor the heat, but because of the inevitable incredulity before such a beautiful image, the impossibility of believing that Levi exists and is not a product of his imagination.

Levi looks at his hand, sees it caressing the air that they can't see, but which envelops them; what anxiety seems to fill him, what longing to see the hand do something, to stop tempting him with its closeness.

With his index finger, Erwin touches Levi's chest, right in the middle, between each nipple. He goes down, strokes down the pale torso, and Levi's mouth opens, and his eyes close a little, and the back arches as a result of the caress. Enraptured, Erwin breathes heavily against his ear; in response to it, Levi turns his face towards him.

Staring at each other, they breathe mouth against mouth. Until Erwin holds his cock and begins to jerk him off.

When he does so, Levi closes his eyes and grunts clenching his teeth.

"Fuck…" he whispers.

Erwin smiles again, satisfied. 

He wants to know everything about Levi, he wants to know what he likes, how much he likes it, how, where, when. He wants to understand everything, to absorb that information with almost the same passion, fascination, devotion with which he would absorb the truth of this world.

But this is another kind of truth.

How happy he is to realize that it's one he’ll be able to reach.

He studies his face with desire, memorizes every change, how the stoic gesture fades caress to caress. Although Levi soon kisses him on the lips in that way so typical of him, so abrupt, so frantic.

But erotic, elegant at the same time.

"Erwin…" he moans against his mouth as he nibbles on his lower lip; how intolerable the violent wave of heat that that moan sends straight to his erection. "No…"

 _No_?

Erwin stops cold, terrified of having crossed a line, of not having read the signs properly. When he stands stiffly beside Levi, he holds his bulge in his hands, and strokes it over his clothes, and pulls down his pants.

"Help me, blondie," he asks almost voicelessly, stubbornly pulling his pants off with one hand, while with the other he caresses the bulge up and down without any delicacy, as roughly as he breathes.

Erwin obeys: he takes everything off, not even a single garment is left on. 

Levi doesn't stop: he turns towards him, grabs his cock, and stares at it, his eyes like two hungry moons ready to devour it, but which don't frighten him, but turn him on, make him dizzy, make him sensitive. 

"Levi…" Erwin mumbles as he feels the vehemence with which Levi touches him. He tries to return the gesture, to touch him too, but Levi sits on his thighs just before continuing to jerk him off. "Let me do it…"

"You always do."

"Is that bad?"

"Yeah, you bastard. It's bad that you always make me lose my fucking mind and you don't lose it."

"Who told you I don't lose it?" Erwin asks just before he swallows a whimper of pain.

It's as if Levi, that man who doesn't know how to do many things and at the same time knows how to fight like nobody else, didn't know how to caress another man.

"What's wrong?" Levi asks him, perhaps noticing the hint of pain in his eyes.

"It's just that…" Erwin slows down, wonders if it's right to tell him; he realizes, instantly, that it's important to do so. "You don't have to be so rough…"

Levi slows down his hand, though he keeps holding his cock. He raises an eyebrow at him.

"Am I? You'll have to explain to me how to not do that, instead of asking for nothing in return."

Something about what he says seems odd to Erwin, but he doesn't have the time or the strength to think about it, not with Levi's hand holding him like this, so determined to give him the same pleasure he so badly needs to give him.

It's incredible: he feels like a boy. Having to explain things like that at his age gives him a kind of tenderness that confuses him due to the explicit intimacy in which he's immersed, but which he also likes to experience. It's a surprising novelty that he didn't think he would find at his age and in his circumstances, something he never saw coming.

How much he loves the life that all this injects into him.

Erwin looks for Levi's mouth; with one knee, Levi makes his way between his legs. One mouth remains leaning against the other, rubbing against each other as they try to breathe. With his knee, Levi caresses the inside of his thighs with a movement that exudes elegance.

The caress numbs Erwin; it feels like a chill cutting his back in half. 

He breathes against Levi without fully understanding what he does, what he wants, what he thinks; their legs wrestle, they tangle in the middle of the carpet, they go, pull back, go up, go down, while their lips slip against the other body as they touch everything they reach, in a kind of game that sets a flame inside Erwin’s brain, which silences everything around them.

That turns him into a beast identical to the one in front of him. 

Erwin tries to wrap his arm around his waist; Levi pushes forward and catches one of his thighs with his legs. He squeezes him tightly, looks at him, kisses him on the lips with his eyes open, and Erwin loses his mind in a truly wonderful way. It's like a miracle, holding Levi's waist and squeezing it with his fingers, pushing him, taming him with the strength of his body. 

It's liberating, feeling that he has the right to everything it is. 

With a movement as fast as a whip, Erwin lays down Levi under him, Levi's legs open before his knees. He looks at him; under him, Levi looks impressed, gasping with slit eyes just for that, for looking at him and being at his mercy. 

And Erwin can't take it anymore.

He kisses Levi, they kiss each other lying along the carpet, while Erwin makes Levi's hands slowly, intensely jerk him off.

"Like this," he whispers to him between kisses with his hands on Levi's, amid deep gasps that sound more like grunts.

"Like this," Levi replies without blinking, his eyelids half-closed and his mouth gasping even though he's not the one receiving the pleasure.

Erwin looks for Levi's cock and rubs it against his. Levi swallows a scream and trembles when he does so, not before surrounding his hip with his legs. One hand of each one of them is enough to start rubbing against each other.

A nervousness reigns, an urge to which Erwin is unable to give any words; the hips cooperate, one thrusts against the other, and the hands help the cocks stay together and enjoy the same thing, at the same pace, in the same way. 

It has to be a dream. To be able to do this, that nothing exists in the world but Levi, that all fades away, that the hips move, that everything disappears and life…

"L-Le…!"

He bites Levi's shoulder without realizing it, too lost in the mere vice of enjoying moving against him, on the verge of the ecstasy he doesn't yet want to reach, which he tries to contain by squeezing his teeth on the skin.

Because he doesn't want to. 

Because he doesn't want to go back…! 

He tries to apologize in a moment of deep shame; Levi silences him by pulling at his neck to kiss him on the lips; the hips, meanwhile, have no idea what they are doing. They just move, and move, and move.

Too much, but never enough when it comes to the other.

Erwin looks at him; he stares at Levi so deeply that he feels that, in doing so, he's penetrating him. That's how intense it feels to lose himself in the two silver blades lit by fire, to penetrate and be penetrated at the same time. 

To consummate something that has no name yet, but is present, between them.

"Shit, Erwin…" Levi mumbles as he widens his eyes. 

"What the…?"

"I-I want to scream…!"

An overly accurate caress combined with a yearning he has no right to fulfill plunges Erwin into a kind of madness as lacerating as perverse. It's brutal, unbelievable. 

Yes, it's a dream!

"So do I…"

Without stopping looking at each other, they thrust against each other ruthlessly, one hip out of control slapping the other, two wet erections enduring the inevitable, the desperation wrapping the deformed faces that are one the perfect reflection of the other.

Levi covers his mouth with the hand that doesn't caress between their legs; Erwin imitates him right away.

Thrusting with their bodies fiercely, not only with their hips that no longer have reason or control, they come almost at the same time on Levi's belly, covering with their hands the screams that their throats release at the same time.

Afterward, nothing but catching their breath.

"Shit…" he hears Levi whimper as Erwin lets go of him and lies down next to his body. 

_Shit_ , Erwin thinks as he massages his neck.

That was so…

They remain silent. Erwin, when he catches enough breath, cleans the semen that has stained Levi's belly and even his chest with a handkerchief he always has inside the pocket of his pants. When he finishes, he sets the handkerchief aside. 

Levi doesn't look uncomfortable.

On the contrary. 

He holds one of Levi's arms, who continues to breathe with evident difficulty even though a couple of minutes have passed. Though subtly, his body shivers.

"It's very cold," Erwin says. "Come here."

However, Levi moves his arm away from him.

"I have to go to my room," he says. His voice sounds hoarser than usual. "The constipated-faced one and the other usually go to play cards in the next room on Saturdays, but Gunther reads until late."

Erwin translates Levi's words for himself: _I can't stay_.

 _No one can discover us_. 

Although he understands this and has no reason to contradict him, he allows himself to do what he finds so difficult when it’s for his own good.

He insists. 

"Ten minutes," he proposes by holding Levi's arm once more. "The fireplace radiates a lot of warmth; let's enjoy it."

Reluctantly, though, Levi gives in. The image of his naked, pale body inspires him so much cold that Erwin seeks his own shirt to cover him with it. Levi looks at himself.

"What the hell are you? A titan?"

Erwin adjusts the shirt on his shoulders so that it covers him at least a little. Something in the new image seduces him differently.

He looks beautiful.

Erwin rests his head on the pillow he improvised with his jacket; although he's still unable to do so without a certain embarrassment due to the novelty of his situation with Levi, he holds him by the hand, pulls him and squeezes him with one arm. 

To his surprise, Levi allows him to do so by leaning one cheek on his chest and letting himself be embraced by him. 

Only then Levi's breath calms down.

Caressing Levi's nearest shoulder, sliding his fingers under the shirt with absolute delight, Erwin wonders how long they can hold this. They must keep it a secret, it's mandatory, they can't afford to falter. But it's enough for him to embrace him like this, in such a trivial way inside this artificially romantic setting that it has nothing to do with the idea that Levi proposed to him, that is, sleeping together to manage their feelings, to realize that it won't be easy.

Maybe he should ask Mike for advice, although it may be possible to do so with caution, not to mention that he's having an affair, much less with whom he's having it.

Does Mike know that she likes men, too? He knows about Marie, but not about Sam. Would he say something offensive if…?

"Why don't you fuck me?"

Levi's question is a big shock. Erwin needs to ask again. He does, and Levi answers with the same sentence:

"Why don't you fuck me? That’s what I asked you. Do you go deaf after you cum?"

Surprised, as he would never have expected such a question from Levi considering how he is and the peculiar relationship he has with sex, one that he still doesn't fully understand and which never ceases to amaze him because of the constant turns it takes, Erwin answers the first thing that comes to his mind:

"We have been having sex since your birthday."

"No. You stick your finger in me, suck me off, jerk me off, jerk yourself with me, rub yourself between my legs or against my dick; that's not fucking."

"Sex is not about penetrating or being penetrated, Levi. Sex is…"

"Don't give me any of that cheesy stuff - I know what sex is. It's all this, but between guys, it's also about fucking and being fucked."

Erwin laughs. He loves the way Levi talks, how rough he is, how frank. He loves how unashamedly he uses the most explicit expressions to describe the most trivial things, even the deepest.

It smells like honesty, that's why he likes it.

Levi doesn't pretend, never.

"Not all men penetrate or are penetrated; it's a choice, not an obligation."

"Have you ever been with someone like that?"

"Once. I was in my twenties, I think. He was a nurse; he left the corps shortly after. When his father passed he received a good inheritance and the family business, so he decided to get married and have a family." He stops to question himself why he gives so many details; Levi looks at him seriously, so he decides that maybe it's not so bad to continue. "We spent two or three nights together, and when I asked him if he wanted to do it to me (I was young and had very little experience; I had a prejudice that I should receive because he was older than me) he said that he didn't… do that kind of thing."

"And what did you do?"

"What we just did."

"Rubbing."

"Yes."

"And how long ago did you say you didn't fuck?"

"About three years, I think."

"Man or woman?"

"Woman."

"Who was she?"

"A woman from high society. I met her at a gala at the palace where I went with the commander; our uniforms are very successful in the Capital, you could say."

"I see. And how much time did you fuck?"

"Two or three times."

"And why did you stop fucking?"

"I can tell you love to say that word."

"Does it offend you, Mr. Exquisite Vocabulary?"

Erwin laughs again as we hold him tighter.

"It seduces me."

They look at each other. Levi crosses his arms over his chest to do so, to stare at him with an overwhelming determination.

"And what else?"

"It wasn't something serious; we just lost contact," Erwin continues. "I don't usually look for this to happen, and if it does it doesn't for much longer. The times I have done it, it has been due to the other person's insistence, not mine."

"So you have never been crazy for someone to the point of needing to fuck that person as if it was the last thing you were willing to do?"

Erwin tilts his head a little; Levi's face doesn't show the slightest change.

Answering this question will reveal what is obvious. Perhaps it would be better to lie, but something in Levi's face lets him know that even if he does, he will become aware of it.

"Only you have provoked me something like this."

"Bah. And even I had to insist…"

Erwin strokes Levi's cheek with an index finger. Levi allows him to do so, and although the face remains unchanged, he swears to see a difference in the way he looks at him.

Studying the slightest changes in these eyes makes him more passionate than he should be.

Like all of Levi does.

"I'm glad you did."

Levi, although he doesn't reject Erwin's repeated caress, looks up at the fireplace. 

"Whatever, but you didn't answer me."

Knowing what he means, Erwin sighs.

"You told me you only did it once."

"That's what I said."

"With that in mind, I think it's pertinent to wait."

"Why?"

"I don't want it to be quick and untidy, in a hurry and just because…"

"We're a little old to be thinking about idealized, trashy romantic sex, don't you think?"

"I know, Levi. I just…" Erwin is speechless. Has he given this any serious thought? He remembers doing it on New Year's Eve when he noticed how nervous Levi was, but he doesn't seem so nervous anymore; in fact, he looks quite excited. There's no reason not to do it, any more than the one he just said. Yes, he says to himself; that is it. "When there's little experience, it takes time, care and patience to penetrate a man."

"Uh-huh."

"I just want to do it the way you deserve. I mean, do it _well_."

Because he wants him to like it, to love it, to be fascinated by it.

He wants to be more convinced that he deserves to do it with Levi, actually.

"Cheesy old man excuses," Levi replies. "At this rate, you'll never fuck me."

"I didn't say that."

"Do you want to, or do you like to be passive and are waiting for me to take the initiative?"

Although with a little embarrassment, amidst laughs, Erwin comes clean once again:

"I wouldn't mind."

"I can't stick it in. I did it once, but it was weird, I was told it hurt."

Intrigued by this casual mention of his past, Erwin quietly asks:

"Was it a man?"

"Yeah."

So he has never been with a woman.

Which means he only likes…?

"And he did it to you?"

"Yeah, a few minutes earlier."

Another man, and maybe not experienced enough judging by that detail.

"Maybe that's why Levi."

"Huh?"

"Being penetrated shortly after you come, during the refractory period, is painful for some men because…"

"I can tell you have been with a nurse, you talk like one when you say those very specific words."

Erwin can't stop giggling. What does one thing have to do with the other?

Caressing him, he understands that he wants him every second of the day against his skin; to that level he adores him.

But it's late.

Even if he doesn't want to, it's time to get back to reality.

It seems that his silence says enough; Levi gets up, covers him with his shirt when he takes it off, and quickly dresses himself standing in front of the fireplace.

"Get out of here in ten or fifteen minutes so we don't draw so much attention," Levi tells him. "And give me that filthy handkerchief; I'll wash it right now."

Erwin gets up, starts dressing, and obeys every command as if Levi were his squad leader and not the other way around. 

As far as intimacy concerns, it's Levi who's in charge; Erwin is very comfortable with that. 

Because he wants Levi to call the shots.

Because he still needs Levi to give him this right.

He dresses with his back to him; he turns just to study how Levi's hands button up and tie the cravat around his neck. 

He's perfect.

Levi is wearing his jacket on his shoulders. He holds the handkerchief folded in his left hand. Besides, he has rolled up his sleeves; the beauty of his arms is dazzling. He sees him stop before the door.

"See you next time, Erwin."

How little the fireplace manages to mitigate the cold that Levi's absence leaves whenever their nights come to an end.

.

.

.

He goes to his room shivering; in the bathroom, he cooled himself with a damp towel, but he had to do it with cold water.

Partly, it was better like that; he needed to turn down all the heat that kept his body tensed.

But this cold only makes him want to do again what he did with Erwin before he left. Rubbing himself against him.

Letting himself be held by him in front of the fireplace.

Letting himself be caressed on his face as Erwin did, slowly.

Gently.

When he gets there, he looks at his chair, then at his bed. He doesn't hesitate to go to the latter.

"Using your bed?" Gunther asks from the top bunk. The main light comes from the candle he has lit. Because of the height, Levi can't see well what he's doing, although he assumes he's reading; Gunther usually reads before going to sleep. 

"Yeah."

"You hardly ever use it."

Naturally, he only uses his bed after seeing Erwin.

It's the exhaustion that comes with sex that makes him use it.

He thinks about explaining himself until he understands that he owes such an explanation to anyone. He doesn't respond; he gets undressed after leaving the wet, clean handkerchief near the window. This is something he usually does, to leave handkerchiefs, rags, or even his cravat hanging it out to dry at night; it shouldn’t raise suspicions.

"What were you doing?" he listens to Gunther ask. 

He knows that he usually tries to make conversation. He usually succeeds in doing this especially when they are training or cleaning. In contexts like this, of relaxation before going to sleep, Levi feels more comfortable being distant, although with a certain innate awkwardness, the one that always comes up when he deals with people in such daily environments.

"Drinking tea."

Gunther's bed squeaks over his head, which means he's probably leaning out to look at him. Levi hears him laughing.

"That bite on your shoulder disagrees."

Levi keeps his cool by touching his left shoulder. He doesn't need to look at it; Erwin bit him to silence a moan he would have loved to hear.

He chooses not to respond, again. He finishes putting on the only pajamas he has after folding every garment of his uniform. Ignoring Gunther, he starts to polish the tips of his boots.

"Aren't you going to tell me?" Gunther insists.

"There's nothing to tell."

"But the bite… Oh, come on! Who is she?"

 _She_?

"No one."

"Is it Ilse? I saw you talking to her."

The very idea disgusts Levi. Not because there is anything wrong with Ilse, Freckles is a very good girl, but because of what he says without even measuring himself:

"She's just a brat, how can you think I'm fucking a brat? Stop asking me things like that; it's irrelevant inside this nut house."

The bed squeaks again, a sign that Gunther has disappeared from his sight. Levi gets into his bed, covers himself, and looks at the top bunk.

"I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, Levi. I'm sorry," he listens.

"Forget it."

"It's just… Well, it's more frequent than you might think."

"What do you mean?"

"A lot of people here have sex in secret. For example, my squad leader, Mike Zacharias, is crazy if he thinks we don't realize he's sleeping with our partner, Nanaba."

Mike and Nanaba, it’s true.

"I also know of other cases, such as those of…" Gunther lists, he gives names that Levi doesn't know, men and women who have sex on this base; well-known secrets. "I guess it's inevitable: Tension exceeds us here; sex is good for eradicating it. Also, since no one here gets married due to the high rate of casualties per expedition, I think it's a little understandable since most people don't have anyone waiting for them out there."

Actually, yeah. What Gunther says makes sense and, if he has to be honest, he hasn't considered it.

It's understandable to allow himself a relief.

Even in someone like Erwin, it is.

"Maybe," he says.

"Though, well, there are brothels around here and many are…"

Levi clenches his fists.

"Say no more. I get it."

Gunther keeps quiet. His voice, always enthusiastic but also serious, sounds shyer consequently:

"So, Levi," he continues, "please don't feel guilty or anything. I mean, enjoy it. That you enjoy something here is something that shouldn't make you think you care less about our mission or anything like that."

Impossible.

"I'll keep that in mind," he says. 

"Good night, Levi."

Gunther puts out the candle; the little light that reaches the room comes from the moon that shines charmingly outside the window. 

Levi looks at it, then he looks at Gunther’s bed again.

Not even if it was unusual, not even if it meant he cared less about his mission.

There is nothing in this shitty world that would make him feel regretful about fucking Erwin Smith.

Even if Erwin Smith doesn't fuck him the way he wants to, with his dick and not his fingers.

Because something inside him has woken up and he only has the strength to let himself be carried away, and help Erwin, and learn to give him at least a little bit of everything he gives him by touching him. 

Because he can't accept only to receive from him. 

He doesn't understand a bloody thing, he doesn't even understand why he couldn't stop himself from going to his office to look for him to get laid.

He just understands that he doesn't like Erwin to be the one who gives everything.

He has to give something as well.

.

.

.

He leaves his office trying not to analyze anything else, letting pleasure be the only acceptable presence inside him. When he closes the door and turns towards the stairs, he gets startled when he finds a shadow whose presence he didn't perceive at any moment.

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to scare you," Hanji says. "I know you usually stay up late, so I came to ask you some questions about the report. Well, though! I think I'm overdoing it, huh? We should be sleeping and stop being obsessive."

"We should," Erwin replies as he rubs his hair, uncomfortable.

He doesn't want Hanji to ask him about Levi.

He doesn't want anyone to.

"I wanted to ask you something else, too."

Erwin walks past Hanji and only turns away a few steps from them. 

He doesn't want them to ask him about Levi.

No.

He doesn't want anyone to get involved.

"Tell me."

"I know you get a little tense before you go to the Capital. Do you need me to make you some kind of painkiller? I admit I was a little surprised you didn't ask. I mean, this is the first time that you're going to Mitras as the corps' main representative.”

He sighs. 

Since New Year that he's not drinking the painkiller.

"Would you allow me to think about it? I'll come and see you in your lab tomorrow."

"All right! I'll be waiting for you."

"Very well." He takes one more step forward. "See you tomorrow, Hanji."

"See ya!"

He moves forward and doesn’t stop; Hanji hasn't told him about Levi. They kept their promise not to interfere, after all; it's not right to mistrust a partner like that.

He must take things more slowly.

Once in his room, he takes off his clothes, puts on his pajamas, and curls up under the blankets. It's very cold tonight.

Without Levi, it's always cold.

Is Levi becoming a negative presence? He says to himself that he’s not, although it terrifies him to think that he is. After all, he should be thinking about the truth, not about the cold of an absence.

He massages his frown with his fingers. He thinks of continuing to read the book he has on the nightstand, but the truth is he doesn't feel like it, not about that, not about anything other than Levi, looking at Levi, touching Levi, satisfying Levi.

Embracing Levi in front of the fireplace as if that artificially romantic setting were a real possibility.

What would he be thinking now if Levi didn't exist? 

Probably, he would be thinking about work. He would be keeping his eyes open with an intensive analysis of everything that is going on. He would be thinking about titans, how to act in certain situations, how to take advantage of the talent of each soldier in his squad and the corps itself, how to order the formations, and how…

But no.

He thinks of Hanji, what they just talked about a few minutes ago, or hours if during this thread of thought the time has slipped through his fingers as it always does. Because there is never enough time, not for something as huge as what is beyond the walls.

He would be thinking about guilt, that's the truth.

He would be obsessed with work to avoid guilt, to not think about his dad, to not remember the same damn scene over and over again. The MPs knocking on his door, his eyes filled with tears as he opened them. He would be remembering how he begged them, out of despair, to please find his dad.

He would be remembering how they told him they had found him dead.

He would be…

Yes. He would be torturing himself. He would be doing it so he could be feeding on the guilt, using it as fuel not to give up in exchange for getting a little crazier. Because it's very easy, with so much guilt on one's shoulders, to be thinking about dying.

Because that is what he used to do when he went to bed, when he put out the candle, when he left the book. 

He used to think about dying.

Every damn night since he had that grave before his eyes, the same toxic thought naturalized to a sickening point. Saying to himself I want to die, I want to leave, I want to give up.

Until the grave came into his memory, the grave being that image that has always symbolized, in his mind, why he must keep fighting.

For that dream he and his dad shared.

To know the truth.

He sighs as he smiles. He hasn't taken the painkiller in almost a month, and yet the guilt hasn't come to choke him once.

Levi is not a counterproductive presence in his life, he concludes. Only now he fully understands it, now that weeks have passed, when he thinks of the spotless beauty of Levi's skin illuminated by the flames of the fireplace, its forms contorted for the most intolerable pleasure, that which burns, that which consumes.

Levi, without intending to, has naturalized other thoughts in his mind.

If he didn't exist, perhaps Erwin wouldn't have been able to reach this day, not with the guilt stalking him as it had been doing since the commander's announcement, since he told him about the resignation.

Because it's like Levi says: his head is fucked up. Things have happened to him and, just like maybe it has happened to Levi as well, they have left him a huge and tiring collection of consequences.

Of all the types, all the varieties.

But Levi is still on his feet. Despite everything that his eyes seem to show in every moment they spend together, he doesn't give up, he doesn't let himself be defeated, doesn't succumb to death as the only possible path.

If Levi could, and can, and keeps fighting to carry on, then he can do it, too.

Because there is no longer any point in getting lost in the crowd of those wandering ghosts from his past. 

He'll be the next commander of the Survey Corps, that is, the organization that represents the spear that humanity needs to defend itself from the titans and their constant senseless killing.

Now, like this, with Levi on his right giving everything along with him, he's only allowed to do one thing.

To hold the spear and find the most certain way to attack.

.

.

.

Several soldiers have come to see them go this morning. As Hanji explained at breakfast, while the presence of the squad leaders is requested in addition to that of the commander and not much else, the journey they are about to make is of invaluable importance, which is why many soldiers come to wish them luck.

Because if something goes wrong during their stay in Mitras, there won't be enough money to leave the walls this year.

Because if they don't leave the walls, then the Survey Corps has no reason to exist.

Levi looks at Erwin: he's exchanging some last words with the commander. Then Levi sees him walking towards him, who is next to the door of the carriage that will take them to Mitras.

Together, they look at all those who have gathered in front of the carriage, among them, in addition to the squad leaders, people like Ilse, Hanji, Moblit, Nanaba, Gunther, and many others - even that blondie bastard who gave him the flu, who smiles at him with confidence and a hint of admiration! What was his name? Elg? Elf? Eld? 

In the background, at a distance, Levi notices the presence of small groups that observe in silence and not in a friendly way. 

He's not an idiot and he didn't live on the streets of the Underground for nothing; he knows that his talent is giving him a reputation, but also enemies. Perhaps it's inevitable that there are people who are jealous of his position, of having the opportunity to be the representative of all the soldiers, to stand next to Erwin to get enough funds. 

But it's not his fucking problem.

It's perfect if they hate him; he doesn't care. What it does bother him is that they question the decisions Erwin makes.

It's simple, whether they like it or not: if Erwin thinks he's the one, then he is. He is, yeah, because Erwin believes in him.

That's the only opinion he has to care about under this nut house's roof.

"We depend on you, or not," the commander exclaims to both of them. "The whole of humanity depends on the success of your journey!"

The old man salutes as he takes one fist to his chest and the other to his back; instantly, all the soldiers around him imitate him. 

Not so the envious ones who follow in the background.

Levi wishes that Erwin doesn't look at or care about them. He looks him in the eye, and one nods to the other just before to return the salute. They get into the carriage, and in the calm gesture he finds in Erwin, Levi finds a kind of comfort in return.

He has never seen him more focused than today.

The carriage moves towards the Capital to which Levi had no idea he would ever return, and how different the circumstances are, the idea of returning to Erwin's side, the guy with whom he fucks and also his squad leader, the man whom, almost a year ago, he had to kill to assure his friends a peaceful life on the outside.

But he has no regrets.

Unexpectedly, Erwin's right hand covers his left one and squeezes it.

They look at each other once more, though with no more eyes than the other one’s around them, and some kind of peace seems to flow between them. As if the simple act of touching each other allows that energy to flow, to go, to come, to be exchanged between one and the other. 

"Everything will be fine," Erwin says.

Levi raises his fingers and intertwines them clumsily with Erwin's, who raises his eyebrows at the gesture, perhaps in awe.

"I know, Erwin," he answers.

Erwin smiles at him. There is something childish in his eyes, that childish something that appears when Erwin Smith allows himself to be the human, not the next commander.

Incredibly, Levi has learned to read him this way, to this very point.

"How do you know?"

Levi squeezes his fingers between his. He doesn't squeeze hard, but rather emphatically. 

Erwin's eyes, on the other hand, become even younger.

"I trust your judgment," Levi says, as serious as convinced of every fucking word he pronounces. "I know that if something goes wrong, you'll come up with some trick that will get you what you want. Don't forget how we met."

.

.

.

It’s true. He met him because he became obsessed with his talent and did everything he could to use him as a weapon, his figure embodying the sharp end of the spear of humanity.

And here he is, feeling for Levi everything he's feeling, not the weapon, not the soldier, but the human. This infatuation that is not such, that is more, that is something so big and so impressive that he still doesn't manage to understand it completely.

It’s something he can only feel.

That saves him every time the void of his guilt appears at his feet.

.

.

.

"Thank you, Levi," Erwin says in a whisper, his eyes shining, his mouth showing the most beautiful smile Levi has ever seen.

What is this shitty feeling that squeezes his throat just because he’s staring at Erwin like this, with childish eyes despite being a man, with so many dreams capable of seeing so many things?

What is this happiness that turns him on like when they are alone in his office, but which also asks him for a more that he doesn't understand? A more that, for some reason, has nothing to do with sex, but with something more abstract.

A more that makes him want to embrace him, to squeeze him, to wrap his body around him and protect him from this ungrateful world that will never deserve him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much for reading. ♥️
> 
> I want to thank you once again for reading and commenting on my fic. I'm putting a lot of heart into it and it makes me happy to share it with you. I thank you for your infinite patience and kindness. 
> 
> I decided it's okay to let go a little on these final notes based on the comments you left me and that I thank you with all my heart. It makes me want to do it, also, because maybe it's a good way to give back a little bit of what you share with me with your comments. ♥️
> 
> (((Although let me make a parenthesis: let's take these notes as complementary data; you are not obliged to read them. Really! I leave them for those who want to read them, nothing else)))
> 
> Having said that:
> 
> About Erwin and all those things he thinks or thought or has in the back of his brain, lurking... One of the things that touched me most about him as a character was discovering his depression when I was depressed exactly a year ago. I read the manga up to chapter 40 or so several years ago, but from that point on I followed SNK just through the anime. After the second part of season 3 I caught up with the manga.
> 
> That's why I didn't know about Erwin until last year, when they released the Return to Shiganshina arc.
> 
> It's very hard when you're there, in the same place as your favorite character. I was deeply moved by everything he said to Levi before he left his dream and died; it touched me on a very, very special level. 
> 
> I know that sleeping with your squad mate doesn't magically bring you out of the depression. But thinking about the context the characters are in, one where there's probably no chance of getting professional help, people have to take care of themselves as best they can, with what they have at hand, with common sense. 
> 
> I try to stick to the canon in this kind of thing, so I think it's important to point out that it's not that Erwin is perfect now, that Levi cured him, but that he's fighting his shit as best he can, with what he has, with what's good for him at this point in his life, and in a way it's making a difference to him precisely because it's something he never had, that is, someone he trusts and in whom he can trust in a very deep, intimate, warm way. A "special person".
> 
> I believe his depression in the canon began the day his father was found dead. From that point, I see the character in an eternal back and forth of that darkness. That's what happens to many of us who have been there, going back and forth from some traumatic event that happened at an early age. I don't know if I'm wrong or not, only Isayama could answer that question, but it's the conclusion I came to when I analyzed Erwin before starting this fic. I know that, because I had depression, my analysis is probably biased, that it's focused more from the emotional and symbolic than from the merely theoretical, but it's a bit like trying to represent it in a proper way. 
> 
> Levi is something that makes him feel good, it's something that contributes significantly, and that's what I wanted to emphasize. When you're depressed and something or someone contributes in a small way, you can tell the difference, or at least that's what happened to me in the past. 
> 
> If that's what you're going through on the other side, please let me send you a big hug and wish you the best. ♥️
> 
> About the first scene: it was originally shorter, but I extended it when I started thinking about a tango, "Tanguera" by Mariano Mores (?). There won't be sex in all the chapters, it's not my intention, but now it seems a bit inevitable to give space to those scenes; they are part of the growth of their intimacy. 
> 
> And that's all. ♥️♥️♥️
> 
> I send you a big kiss. Thank you. :')


	23. XXIII

**XXIII**

Outside the walls, Erwin Smith, the future commander of the Survey Corps, is ruthless; nothing can hurt his conviction. Everyone follows him, no one hesitates if Erwin gives the order, he's not afraid to risk everything; Erwin knows there is no way to change the world without making sacrifices. Because that is what defines his vision, the sacrifice he's prepared to make so that humanity can take off its blindfold. 

Privately, Erwin, the human, is a child. He succumbs to attention, he needs it, but the guilt that governs his life doesn't allow him to ask anything from anyone. He punishes himself too much; he spends his worst moments looking at himself in a mirror made by his own hands, one that lies to him mercilessly. He believes he has the right to nothing, to smile, to enjoy, to allow himself a moment of calm and happiness with someone special. Erwin hides the child’s eyes behind a man's mask, one so convincing that it's real even for those who are closest to him. One that may even fool Erwin himself.

In Mitras, Levi observes as he drinks tea from the finest cup he has ever held in his fucking life, Erwin Smith, at the epicenter of the socio-economic power of this shitty world, is a manipulator who knows perfectly well how to move the pieces on the board. He knows how to relate to pigs, so much so that he looks like one. One could say that he's as ruthless here as outside the walls, but he is differently, through other talents. Among them, stands out the eloquence with which he expresses himself, one that doesn't fail to inspire respect among those who approach him and that is nothing but a tangible testimony of how privileged his mind is. After all, Erwin may lack street smarts, but he has plenty of wisdom when it comes to pigs, whom he knows how to dizzy and corner in just the right way to get his way.

He never ceases to amaze him. 

Levi asks himself to be patient when he stops watching his future commander. The owners of the companies of the best ultrahard steel in the Industrial City and the iron wire they use for the hooks are brothers, so they have met with both of them in the house of the first one, with who, a little far away from Erwin, Levi has been stretching out an absurd and stupid conversation about how essential his short stature is concerning his talent.

"Right, I see," the pig says. "When you use that equipment you use and because you're so short, you move with greater agility."

"Something like that," he answers looking at Erwin once more. 

"But then everyone in the Survey Corps should be short, shouldn't they?" the pig's wife asks, pretending to be friendly.

"Not exactly," Levi explains, bored. "Fighting against titans requires speed, but also strength, something that bigger comrades contribute more than I do." Or so he thought until Mike challenged him to a friendly arm-wrestling match and Levi beat him effortlessly while they were training; Mike crowned him as the strongest one while the others laughed loudly. Awful. "We all can do something different to defeat the titans."

"What a touching idealism," the pig's wife says.

"You convince me, Levi, or as they call you, humanity's strongest soldier. With you, we don't seem to be wasting our money! I mean, someone who can kill 20 titans on one expedition is not incompetent and doesn't take advantage of the taxes people pay!" the pig exclaims, and how he smiles with his disgusting yellow teeth. "I'll _get_ that extra bit of steel you need so badly. I hope you'll come back later and tell me how you killed twice as many titans in one expedition! I'll be glad to know."

He'll love to boast about it, instead, say that he gave them some of the steel he contrabands himself by pretending to get it legally. 

Pigs, after all. 

Their visit to the Capital has two purposes: the first one, to get support from investors and to negotiate good budgets with the different companies that provide resources; the second one, which is also the main one, to get the pigs of the nobility of Mitras that are part of the Royal Government to contribute money to the cause. This means that today's meetings, related to companies and investors, are being faced without knowing what the final budget will be. Although Erwin has told him that the biggest contribution comes from the royal family, who never changes the number, so they already have a basic budget. 

"The challenge is to get more money, in short," Erwin explained during the tea they shared the night before the trip.

Getting the pigs with full pockets to stop worrying about their asses, that's what it's all about.

The pig Levi is talking to gets up from his exquisite armchair covered with exquisite velvet. He pats him on the shoulder, laughs falsely and makes the deal by getting too close to him, so much that Levi can smell his breath of fine cheese and ham. 

Piece of shit.

But at least he has some incredible green tea leaves, a rarity that must be more expensive than the spotless paper these pigs use to wipe their asses.

He holds a sigh as he drinks a little more tea. How unbearable this meeting has been, almost as much as yesterday's, a few hours after getting to Mitras: he and Erwin met with those who prepare the combat rations with which they feed outside the walls. Erwin lied to them by telling them that since Levi has been in the corps they have received twice as many recruits when they were less than a third more in comparison. The result surprised Levi: they agreed to keep the budget, although increasing the number by fifteen percent, in exchange for selling a percentage of the total supplies under the table, to evade taxes, with the promise of increasing the prices next year. Erwin wasn't entirely satisfied, but that percentage was better than nothing.

The iron wire pig is talking to Erwin on the other side of the elegant room in which they are gathered; the guy changes his gaze from a conceited one to a dark one when Erwin, with an unemotional gesture, says something to him in a low voice. 

Only when they are walking through the streets of Mitras, under soft but annoying snow, Levi can ask him about it, the moment Erwin confirms what deal he has made.

Fifteen more percent in number in exchange for a two percent price increase.

"Did you tell him the same thing you told the pig yesterday?"

"No."

"Then what did you tell him?"

"I mentioned some rumors I had heard about a well-known leather supplier here in Mitras. He's being investigated by the MPs for alleged concealment."

"Of what?"

"Illegal business. A very strange plant that seems to work as a drug."

" _Tch_."

"Yes. But he's not the only one being investigated; my contacts inform me that our supplier is in the business too, that he's one more link in the chain. Although I didn't tell him that."

"Let me see if I can get it right: you gave him a warning without warning him."

"Indeed. He asked me so many questions fearing for his company that I asked him if he knew anyone who could be investigated. He told me he did, though he didn't mention himself, but an acquaintance who, of course, isn't one. I told him that I could get him support in the MPs in exchange for a little more iron wire. Of course, he doesn't know that the MPs that are investigating him are planning to offer a truce in exchange for bribes."

"You're a fucking manipulator."

"It's the least I can do to take care of our money, Levi."

The conversation doesn't continue. Levi looks at the ground as he walks; he's upset about everything, that the Survey Corps have to juggle and nobody gives a fuck about knowing the truth, that the pigs are taking advantage of their position to evade taxes and expand their monopolies on the black market as well as on the legal one, that the MPs are this corrupt and spend all day scratching their dicks. 

It bothers him that Erwin has to deal with all this smelly shit.

Tomorrow night they will go to the Royal Palace for the annual gala in honor of the army. In other words, the gala in which it will be decided how much extra money the Royal Government will give them for the cause. 

The meetings with suppliers are nothing compared to the weight that gala will have for the next ten months.

Levi will go nonstop from the Underground to the Royal Palace. He'll piss in their bathrooms, use their gold cutlery, eat their gourmet food.

Amazing how far the rat has come.

They walk in complete silence until Levi, tired of thinking so much, asks a question:

"Who do we see now?"

"Grisha Jaeger, the commander's contact who serves as a link for the medicine supply."

.

.

.

The person he's most interested in meeting today.

Erwin checks his pocket watch, one of the few memories he has of his father - only fifteen minutes to the meeting. He looks up at the tavern in the corner, with its huge windows and rustic decoration.

"Here," he tells Levi as he slows down in front of the tavern. "Dr. Jaeger should be here in fifteen minutes."

"He'll find us, right?"

"Our wings of freedom always betray us." He looks at Levi a few seconds longer than he should. "Come, I'll buy you some tea."

"I just drank one."

"How about something to eat?"

"I already ate today."

"Levi, can't you accept an invitation?"

"No."

Erwin laughs at the sight of him grunting with his gloved hands in his pockets. He looks smaller than usual with his regulation coat, his legs seem shorter than they are.

Beautiful. 

"Okay. Keep me company while I have some tea."

Inside the beautifully lit oil lamp establishment, they sit at the only free table of those by the windows. Erwin orders tea and a slice of vanilla cake from a waitress and watches the snow through the glass. 

How he would like this to be easier, to leave a meeting and hang out with the person he cares most about, take him to a nice tavern in the Capital, hold his hand in the middle of the table, concentrate in the eyes that look at him with that devotion that he finds so hard to understand and even to accept. 

How easy it is, after such a long meeting, to be distracted by imagining it, to lose himself in Levi's beauty, to forget the reason why they are…

"Squad leader Erwin Smith?" a man asks.

Erwin looks at who is standing at the table: he's a man in his forties, long brown hair, glasses, beard. He carries a briefcase in his hand.

"That's me," Erwin replies as he stands up. 

The man offers him a hand; Erwin holds it firmly.

"Grisha Jaeger, very nice to meet you." Erwin sees how Dr. Jaeger looks at Levi with a smile on his face. He looks friendly. "You must be humanity's strongest soldier."

"Let me introduce Levi to you, Dr. Jaeger. Indeed, he's our most valuable soldier."

Levi stands up, shakes Dr. Jaeger's hand without much interest, sits down again, and crosses his legs and arms. Once the introductions have been made, Dr. Jaeger sits in the chair that is perpendicular to them both.

.

.

.

Erwin and Jaeger talk about medicines, numbers, quality of each product, new products, and their effectiveness; Levi regrets not having accepted the tea.

It would keep him entertained while he listens to these unpronounceable names of medicines he has never heard of.

He sees how Erwin eats the vanilla cake: the bastard is holding back. One can see that he's trying to eat politely, but he's dying to gobble up the piece and ask for five more. His eyes sparkle every time he uses the spoon! And he squeezes his eyes shut when he puts it in his mouth.

Who would have thought that this manipulative, brave, courageous, and childish guy also has this side, that he succumbs to sweets.

What a man.

He pays a little attention to the talk: Jaeger takes some papers out of his briefcase, puts them on the table, and checks them one by one; if he heard correctly, he’s looking for a list of medicines for Erwin. Between the papers he checks, he stops before a drawing. He smiles as he looks at it.

"Do you have children, Dr.?" Erwin asks him. How warm his voice is, how polite.

Is curiosity honest or is it a tool of manipulation?

Jaeger nods. He looks comfortable.

"I do. This drawing was made by my daughter." He shows it. Made in crayon by a brat, as is clear by the style, it shows a man, a woman, a boy, and a girl. She has a scarf that has been carefully colored; the scarf has more detail than the rest of the drawing. "My son admires the Survey Corps a lot. He has told his sister that he wants to join. When my wife Carla hears this she will be very angry."

.

.

.

Carla? 

Where did he hear that name?

.

.

.

Erwin and Levi exchange glances.

"No one ever admires us," Erwin says. His warm voice is one that Levi recognizes as a little more intimate than the one he usually uses with people; maybe he's being a little manipulative, but there is something genuine about his tone. "Tell your son we appreciate his support, please."

"Of course I'll tell him! Eren has been complaining for a while, he says you should be the commander, that everyone knows you're the best. Although I'm afraid Levi is his favorite now: he's always talking about how strong he is and how important is for humanity to have such a soldier."

Levi can't help but be a little bit touched, even though he doesn't betray it.

"Say hi to the brat for me, too," he says.

"He will appreciate it very much! I also share that enthusiasm for your fight - nothing can suppress a human's curiosity. You are the ones who fight for the truth that these people deserve to know one day."

Levi sees how Erwin nods and understands that these two could get along pretty well. 

It's a good thing because as Erwin explained to him, he sees in Grisha Jaeger a potential spy, someone who could get him useful information.

Considering the enthusiasm in Erwin's eyes, yeah, this is good news.

Jaeger looks at the drawing and doesn't stop smiling for a moment. Levi stares at the scarf.

Why did the girl give it so much detail?

A few more minutes of conversation about the means of contact, and Jaeger, looking at the snow through the window, stands up abruptly from his chair.

"I must go, I'm sorry, I have more patients to visit." He shakes hands with the two of them. "I hope this is the beginning of a bond as cordial as the one Keith and I have maintained over the years. Thank you for fighting for us!"

Then, in a hurry, he leaves.

When the tavern door closes and Jaeger walks away, Erwin sighs. He eats the rest of the cake in two bites.

"I didn't know you liked sweets." Erwin laughs. A slight blush makes him look like a child, that child who he is somewhere inside him. "That bratty expression looks creepy on your face."

"Everyone has a weak spot." When he finishes his tea, he smiles at him. Actually, the expression makes him look younger than he is, more tender.

Gorgeous. 

"Let's walk," Erwin proposes when he asks for the check.

They leave the tavern in a better mood than when they arrived. It seems, as Erwin is explaining, that Jaeger has been very cooperative and is an excellent contact with whom it may be worthwhile to strengthen ties.

"The information he can access can be useful to us sooner or later," he exclaims.

"If you say so…" Levi replies.

But he stops when he looks at the corner.

"What's going on?"

It's not possible.

"Levi…?"

"Kenny," he whispers, incredulous, at the sight of the man in the black coat standing a few feet away from them at the corner they were heading for. The guy looks at his sides and walks away down the street to the left. He doesn't seem to notice him before to leave, not considering that Erwin is almost completely covering him from his sight.

"Kenny?" Erwin turns around. He does it late; nobody is there anymore. "Levi, is something wrong?"

What is he doing on Mitras? He was very well-dressed, he didn't have that dirty, smelly rat look that was his distinctive mark on the Underground. Did something happen to him? 

Did someone give him a chance, just like him?

"Levi, I'm getting worried…"

Just hearing the latter, followed by a subtle shaking of a hand on his shoulder, brings Levi back to reality.

Did he see what he saw, or…?

"Do we have any more meetings today?"

"No."

"Let's go back," he says as he walks toward where he remembers the Survey Corps branch is.

Apparently, he's not wrong about that, because Erwin is following him. Ten streets in dead silence until they arrive. They greet the two young recruits who are on duty, and Levi walks into his room. Erwin follows him to the door and stops as Levi tries to lock himself in.

"Wait, Levi. What…?"

Levi knows he can trust Erwin, he knows how far he can go without ever regretting it. 

But no, he can't, not today.

Today is not the day to open his heart to that extent.

"I don't feel like talking about that shit," he says as he slams the door.

.

.

.

Although reluctantly, Erwin leaves him alone. Before the closed door, he thinks.

Kenny? Who is Kenny? 

Once in his room, Erwin sits on the bed of the room he occupies, the one assigned to the commander inside the branch. It's spacious, the decoration is sober but warm, it has a personal bathroom and a wonderful window behind the double bed; it's much more luxurious than the small room he has in the headquarters, it sweetens his view in another way.

It's too big for just one person.

He has never seen Levi react in that way to anyone; his stoicism fell to pieces for one small but significant moment, violently. It was so noticeable that, in addition to this loneliness that Levi has asked for, it has left him bewildered.

It was like going back to the beginning, to have before him eyes made of ice impossible to breakthrough. 

That is it, he felt disconnected from Levi. Because no matter how close he was to him, it was as if he were a thousand miles away from him.

Why was that?

He tries to remember. He has heard the name _Kenny_ before. Not because it's common, but because it's related to a particular something, something important.

To what?

He tries to remember, but no, he doesn't. He holds one hand with the other and looks at the wooden floor that covers the room.

How much does he know about Levi’s past?

He was a well-known thug that no one on the Underground wanted to mess with.

He had a mother who died, according to what he said, because of him.

He had sex with a man only once.

He lived with Church and Magnolia, who were his friends, not family.

He learned to read from a volunteer in a bar, surrounded by alcoholics and criminals.

He had big cups and his hands were small.

He never fell in love.

That is all. 

The rest he can guess from small pieces of information that Levi has given him little by little: he may have lived on the streets, he may have been hungry and cold, he may have had to see with his own eyes all the injustice of the Underground. He's terrified to think that he knows so much about prostitution because he had to sell his body to eat, but his sweet though clumsy inexperience tells him that no, that that didn't happen.

But he's quite informed about how prostitutes work.

Why is that?

He said he was a child when his mother died. Has he lived alone since then? Did he learn to fight on the street or did someone…?

Is he over-analyzing Levi’s sigh?

Blaming himself for putting so much effort into something that Levi doesn't have to want to share with him, understanding that he must respect Levi's times more than anything else, Erwin sits at his desk and looks at a stack of ten books from the library in this branch that he plans to take with him, perfect for different aspects of his work. Accounting, history, military strategy, sociology, philosophy, psychology. He also took a novel for his spare time, although he will keep it at the bottom of the stack.

He writes reports about every meeting. He makes a budget worksheet, does some math…

Someone slams the door.

"You must eat and I don't take a no for an answer. It's time," Levi warns him. 

Erwin nods as he leaves work behind. 

They have dinner with the young recruits who are on duty at the branch. Petra Ral is a charming, extremely kind, warm, and intelligent girl. Oluo Bozado boasts too much, he's a bit arrogant, although Erwin finds his obvious attempts to please his comrade quite sweet.

To impress Levi, too.

Concerning Levi, it's like he's not even there. He eats as he always does, methodically, without showing enthusiasm or difficulty, but he doesn't talk. Even though he doesn't seem sad or nervous or tense or whatever, it's noticeable that he doesn't speak as he usually does. Because Levi is distant and awkward, but he's not quiet, nor shy, or at least not in a conventional way. 

Levi tells Oluo to help him clean up right after he refuses the help of both Erwin and Petra. Oluo says that Petra can do it, Levi tells him _you won't lose your dick for washing the dishes_. 

"Squad leader, may I offer you some tea?" Petra asks him when Levi and Oluo leave. 

"Don't worry, I'll come back later to boil some water. I'll go to work now."

Petra nods with a smile on her lips. She looks very young, no older than fifteen.

"Please try to rest."

Erwin likes the advice enough to smile warmly. 

Back in his room, he loses himself in the math again. He checks the inventory sheets, reads some chapters of the accounting book.

He has worked too hard, so much so that he feels that he no longer sees the numbers on the page, that not even one calculation is correct.

And it's not because he's tired, no.

It's because he can't stop thinking about Levi.

He can't force him to tell him everything, he can't ask him for more trust.

He's not his priority.

They're lovers if that's the word for what they share. Lovers, people who have a relationship of a purely sexual nature outside of an official one.

Levi doesn't have to tell him anything.

But how little it benefits him professionally to feel that Levi doesn't trust him the way he does.

Blindly.

Without hesitation.

.

.

.

Petra Ral: short, reddish hair, no more than fifteen years old, eyes full of life and future. Seeing her standing in front of the branch's gate, with her back to him as she stands guard, Levi has a kind of hallucination that hits him with the power of lightning.

How much he misses Isabel.

He doesn't reveal what he feels when he stops next to her.

"Petra."

"Yes, sir?"

"I'm not a sir; I'm a private, like you."

"Ah, yes… I'm sorry! A soldier of your talent doesn't look like just a regular one. I'm sure you'll be a squad leader soon."

Petra, though subtly intimidated, looks at him with admiration. She doesn't stop standing guard, she doesn't leave the rifle she has in her hand, but her girlish eyes, yeah, they are full of admiration.

A different admiration from the one Isabel always showed for him, but identical in some strange way.

He misses her so fucking much.

"I'm going out for a walk," he says when he opens the gate. "I'll be back in a while. When is your duty over?"

"Midnight, si-Levi." Petra swallows. Apparently, it's him and no one else who intimidates her, even though Levi finds it ridiculous. 

"I'll be back sooner," he tells as he leaves.

He walks away without even saying goodbye to her. 

He puts his hands in his coat pockets because of the cold that hits him when the wind blows. The snow in the Capital is barely noticeable, but it's enough to make him shiver.

He hasn't thought about Isabel in weeks, nor about Farlan, nor even about his mother.

Of course, he always thinks about them, always does or says something that refers him to them, but he hasn’t felt this melancholy when he remembers them for weeks. 

Being with Erwin has also managed his shit.

He walks straight, doesn't turn once so as not to get lost; he passes through houses, buildings, small squares, monuments of pigs that he doesn't care about. He stops at a corner, looks at his sides.

Was that Kenny?

He doesn't want to think about that, about Kenny, and that day when he abandoned him.

He wants to stay focused.

But was he…?

Someone crashes him just as, from down the street, he hears a scream. He stops the one who crashed him: it's a girl no older than thirteen who looks at him with tremendous aggressiveness.

"You thief! I'll call the MPs!" a corpulent lady in her fifties shouts as she reaches them almost breathlessly. 

"What's going on?" Levi asks without releasing the girl's arm, which she shakes as she curses him.

"I was closing my shop and this insolent tried to steal the wallet I put on the counter. Filthy brat! The MPs only scratch their bellies, they don't do their job properly… Go back to the Underground, you stinking rat!" 

Levi's blood boils inside his veins. He holds the girl by her shoulders.

"Brat, do you have anything to give back to the lady?"

The girl looks at him. The freckles that stand out under her bad temper-filled eyes remind him of Ilse.

"I didn't get anything out of her. I don't even know why she's after me! You almost threw up your lungs, lady. Leave me alone!"

"You're a…!"

The woman tries to hold the girl by her hair. Levi gets in the way.

"Calm down now, I'll take care of the brat. Now go back to your business and go home. It's late for a woman of your age to be walking the streets alone."

The woman grunts at him, furious until her eyes look at his coat.

"Are you from the Survey Corps?"

"I am."

"Take her with you, recruit her. When a titan eats this brat no one will miss her!"

Just like that, the woman turns around and leaves. She whispers a lot of shit, things like _these good-for-nothings walking around Mitras and our taxes keep getting wasted on them_ or _I don't know why they don't send all the Underground rats outside the walls_ or _it's always the people who provide for these worthless men_ or…

"Shitty old lady," the girl mumbles. "And you, _little soldier_ : I hope you're not one of those perverts who try to put their hands on girls like me. Some girls don't like soldiers, but princesses!"

She covers her body while her pupils spit rejection on him. Levi has seen these eyes, thousands of times he has seen them.

They're the eyes of someone who has had to grow up too fast.

The eyes he had at her age.

"Princesses, huh? Well, I'm not a princess and I'm not a pig, but listen carefully to what I'm going to say." He bends down just a little to match their heights. "I'll give you some tips while I buy you dinner, okay?"

The girl's stomach growls; Levi releases her carefully, slowly, to make sure she doesn't run away.

The girl covers her body again with her arms.

"If you ask me to suck your dick I'll kill…"

"I'll pretend I didn't hear the disgusting thing you just said. Go on."

He finds a tavern on the next corner. He buys her bread, rice, and water, a portion for each of them, and leaves everything to the girl, who eats frantically, bringing him back more memories than he would like. 

"Are you from the Underground?" he asks her.

"No, I'm not from here."

"And where are you from?"

She doesn't even look at him.

"A girl shouldn't tell a man, even if he's a midget, where she comes from."

Levi smiles.

"Good choice."

She smiles, too, she does it while she's chewing. Levi rests his arms on the wooden table and looks her in the eye.

"Since you're not from here, maybe you can take some advice from me about this shitty city, so you can aspire to win some princess’ heart in the future."

She stops eating, confused; Levi spills his guts like he never does, talks to her as an equal, explains how to survive on the street, and more effective ways to steal without being caught by the MPs.

Because those good-for-nothings have never been able to stop him, and if they couldn't stop him they shouldn't be able to stop anyone.

Not a girl with these freedom-hungry eyes.

The girl finishes her meal; she hasn't said a word during Levi's whole speech. In the end, serious, she leaves her sight on the table.

"Thank you, _little soldier_."

Levi ignores her; he doesn't need that gratitude. He pays for the food and, outside the tavern, he takes more money out of his pocket and makes it a roll.

"Where do you sleep? Do you stay on a street or go to a refuge?"

"I get inside the church of those crazy people, the ones who pray to the walls."

Crazy, yeah. Those guys are nuts.

"Well, hide this money inside your clothes and don't tell anyone you have it, especially not those fanatics. It will allow you to eat for at least a week."

The girl puts the money deep into her pants pocket. At least she has decent clothes. 

He looks at her like he's looking at his past self; it's his turn to let her go and wish her the best.

Much more he can't do for her, unfortunately.

"Are you sure you're not going to ask me to suck you off or something? Cause I'll throw up all that food on you if…"

Levi clicks his tongue, disgusted. He hates hearing her talk like that, but he understands. It's part of what it means to be young and live on the street.

They either steal or sell their bodies in exchange for living another day.

"Some soldiers don't like princesses."

She smiles at him once more. There's complicity in her look.

"I'll keep your secret, whoever you are."

"A lunatic who kills titans."

"Killing titans…"

"I'll keep yours, um…"

Levi doesn't continue; he doesn't have to ask her name.

The girl turns around, ready to disappear into the streets of the Capital.

"Ymir," she says and leaves.

Levi stays standing under the soft snow that falls on Mitras. He puts his hands in his pockets as he prepares to return to the branch.

However, he stops at a corner.

He was like that girl once, hungry, cold, in need of endless things. All while someone in a better position walked under the snow over his head, as he's doing right now. Because that is the truth: underneath this ground that is like a thousand walls, some brats are having a hard time or even a worse one than he did.

The lack of freedom has nothing to do with the walls.

If one day he could use his position in the Survey Corps to do something about it…

He walks again, slowing down until he reaches the corner of the street where the branch is located.

He was lucky enough to have someone. Someone who was far from perfect, who wasn't even a shadow compared to how wonderful his mother was, but who left him useful tools in his hands.

A knife, a lot of strength, and the nature necessary to survive.

Whether that guy was Kenny or not doesn't change anything, he says to himself, even though he knows it's not that simple. It's not easy to ignore either.

Now he's in another position, in a different moment of his life, and his heart is dedicated to only one thing.

Although sometimes it's hard to look back, he can't forget that.

That now he has Erwin by his side.

That he's no longer alone in this filthy darkness anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. ♥️
> 
> I've been having a hard time for days now because of the isolation. This fic always helps me when things get too complicated. Although I was very discouraged and had trouble sitting down to translate this chapter that I had already written, I'm slowly regaining the courage to continue.
> 
> I'm grateful for every visit, every bookmark, every kudo, every subscription, every comment that I get from you: it all gives me more encouragement to keep putting my heart into this fic.
> 
> It makes me feel good. Thank you very much for every word you let me read.
> 
> It means a lot to me. ♥️
> 
> I know this fic is not original and neither the most fun to read, but it's the one my heart is telling me at this moment of my life. If on the other side you feel it, it makes me happy.
> 
> Thank you very much for everything, truly.


	24. XXIV

**XXIV**

He knocks once, waits.

Nothing.

He knocks again, three times instead of one.

Nothing.

He knocks a third time, five times. In the end, he says his name.

"Levi…?"

Nothing. Like that first time.

He hears footsteps, though.

"What is going on?" Levi asks behind his back. 

In front of Levi's assigned room's door, Erwin turns around. Levi is taking off his gloves, his nose is red.

"Where did you…?"

"Are you going to ask me where I was? I needed to clear my mind, I went around the block." He finishes with the gloves, folds them with obsessive tidiness, and holds them against his chest. "What do you want?"

Erwin takes a deep breath and doesn't stop looking at him for a moment. He notices something odd in him, as if something innate in him wasn't there, as if he wasn't being himself one hundred percent. 

How must he proceed to be helpful?

"Levi, I just wanted to…" he says trying to keep the seriousness of the future commander. Showing the mask, not the child he'll always be behind it.

There is no point in keep working; he's mentally exhausted. There is no point in pretending either.

Perhaps, the best thing to do is…

He walks away from Levi, stops at the bottom of the stairs.

"I'll see you in my room, I need to discuss some matters with you," he announces before the mask falls off and shows what is obvious.

That if there is one thing he can't stand, it's feeling that Levi is doing something for him that he's not giving back.

Give him the right. Even if it's hard for him, even if he feels like he's crossing a line, give it to him.

When he comes back to the room assigned to him on the top floor of the branch, Erwin waits for Levi, who arrives a little later. He turns to him - if Levi has delayed a little, it has been for leaving his coat before follow him. 

"Come in," he requests.

Levi walks into the room and stops in the middle of it, right in front of the bed.

Erwin closes the door, locks it, and walks over to him.

As he hugs him from behind, kisses his neck and holds him in his arms, losing his senses before every little reaction from Levi’s body, Erwin asks him:

"Do you want me to…?"

Levi doesn't speak; breathless, he just nods.

Always from behind, Erwin unbuttons his shirt. He does it slowly, trying to show respect through his attitude, to let Levi know that he can trust him. 

When he takes the shirt off him, Levi leans his back against his chest. Feeling him against him makes Erwin smile.

This is what he wants. This.

That Levi trusts him.

That Levi knows that he can count on him.

Do for Levi what Levi does so well for him.

.

.

.

It's like sinking into a tub of boiling water, letting his body fall, letting the heat envelop him, letting the steam cloud his vision, and make his muscles relax, give in.

That is how it feels like to give his body to Erwin.

When he pays attention among so many overwhelming sensations, Levi sees the golden hair between his legs and his own hands holding it. He sees Erwin kneeling between his thighs in front of the bed.

This is not right.

It's not right that he always…

"Erwin…!" he whimpers before collapsing, his hands stopping the screams that no one will ever hear.

.

.

.

In the end, Erwin doesn't know how much time passes while he does what he enjoys so much, marveling at Levi's perfect image. On the bed, Levi rubs himself against the sheets, at times, and then lies still for a few seconds. It's as if he finds it hard to return to reality after feeling pleasure. 

Beautiful.

Sitting next to him on the edge of the bed, Erwin looks at him tenderly. He knows that he won't accept a kiss after doing to him what he did with his mouth, but perhaps Levi won't reject a caress.

He raises a hand, rests his palm on Levi's right cheek.

No, he doesn't reject him.

"Did you lose your mind?" Erwin asks as he smiles at him.

Levi doesn't look at him, but when he hears him, he laughs in that dry way that is so typical of him.

He laughs as Levi always does, without ever smiling. 

"I don't know how the fuck you do this. Is this why people are so desperate to fuck? This is the first time in my fucking life I think I understand why certain people are interested in sex."

Erwin is never proud of himself; in his position and with his story on his back, it would be impossible. However, he congratulates himself for having that impact on Levi, one that Levi has on him multiplied by a thousand.

It wasn't a bad idea to look for him for the first time, then. If Levi looks this relaxed, maybe it was a good idea to dare to do it, to give himself the right to give him the right.

"Sex is… mysterious. I think everyone looks for something different in it," Erwin says as he allows himself to stroke his palm on Levi's face, hair, and neck, as Levi rubs against the sheets. How relaxed he is, it's not a lie.

It works, yes. What Levi achieves whenever they are together he can also achieve it, emptying his brain, relaxing his body.

Give him some peace so he can manage himself in the right way. 

"For me, it was always something disgusting," Levi says.

It's not something Erwin hasn't heard Levi say before, but now, after deepening their intimacy over the past month, this casual mention of his past is not a statement, but perhaps an invitation to look into it. 

Or so he hopes.

"Even during your first time?" he asks calmly. 

Levi sighs. It's almost adorable how hard it is for him to calm down after he comes. 

"If my first fuck didn't disgust me, it was because I was with someone who didn't disgust me." 

Who was he? Why did they only do it once?

Was he someone special to him?

"That is very important," Erwin answers, remembering Sam and Marie, the first two times, the two most important times until the arrival of this person who is sweeping away all his past. 

That it's not keeping a single thing in place.

Only himself. 

That is why Levi has allowed himself to get involved with him, Erwin recalls as he analyzes the words; he doesn't disgust him either, as he said at the beginning of this shared intimacy.

Though in a peculiar way, he finds it sweet.

"Anyway. It's late, you must rest." Levi sits up on the bed.

Erwin holds his arm. 

"Stay," he asks. 

Levi looks at him: what pleasure and what rejection are intermingled in the silver eyes.

"You know I can't, future commander. Don't be a fool, we talked about it last time. What if the recruits find out? Don't make me repetitive."

Brutally honest. As much as it hurts him, Erwin knows that Levi is right.

"I know," he whispers.

Levi gets up. He says nothing else.

The door closes and the room falls into a dead silence.

As usual. 

Erwin lies down on the bed. The cold comes through his pores, plunging him into sensations he shouldn't be allowed to explore.

It's not their fault, but if he has to be honest, the limitations begin to bother him.

He must understand this is not love, nor an official-type relationship according to the parameters of this world built on lies. 

Just trust. A shared intimate release, a tool to manage their hearts, to keep them alive and full of fuel.

They just help each other. 

Nothing else.

.

.

.

He walks into the tiny room that has been given to him at the branch and, leaning against the closed door, allows himself to do what he so badly needs to do.

Sliding through the door to sit on the floor, hugging his knees, putting his face against them. 

Like _that_ day.

Kenny was one of the four most important persons he had in his life before Erwin and the Survey Corps, but of the four he's the only one he doesn't remember fondly.

Maybe because he never forgave him for leaving him alone.

Starting from scratch after his abandonment required stealing, cheating, stealing more, associating with problematic people in the Underground and then betraying them, making a name for himself and making it worthy. Only then he had enough money to buy himself a small house, the one he ended up living in with Farlan and Isabel years later. But it was hard for him - there is not enough work in the Underground, he couldn't work in conventional things despite trying. For guys like him, those who lived on the streets, there was only crime and prostitution.

If his mom hadn't chosen the latter…

He takes a deep breath and hums the same old song. His mom was a too good person to steal or cheat, she was pure, someone who only wanted the best for both of them. He doesn't blame her for anything, he has no reproach; he understands everything she did and why she did it. 

The respect and admiration he feels for her are only overshadowed by another feeling.

Love.

But Kenny, on the other hand, makes him feel other kinds of things. 

He tried to find out where he was more than once; he never succeeded. He has no idea if he's still alive, but he was identical to him.

That guy in the black coat was identical. 

Perhaps he's not holding a grudge against him. Rather he feels that something is unfinished. He doesn't hate him, he couldn't even if he tried; he thanks him enough for giving him the most valuable thing he has, his strength, the one without which he would now be a dead rat, but yeah. There is something unfinished.

He had never seen him at the brothel. He knew most of his mother's customers, he still remembers their pig faces, all of them, but he had never seen him.

Besides, judging by the time they shared, Kenny didn't seem interested in prostitutes or sex. 

How did he know her? And by her real name, not the one she used at the brothel. 

_Why_ did he know her?

Is he his…?

He can't react like that, not towards Erwin. It's stupid. He can't just keep quiet and look like he's smelling shit, without explaining himself. He can do that to other people, but not to Erwin.

It doesn't make sense. 

Erwin trusts him. Certainly, he hasn't told him a lot about his past, if he thinks about it, but despite all his shitty prejudices and the fear and guilt that curses him every fucking day, Erwin trusts him a lot. Because it takes a lot of trust, as well as a lot of strength, to succumb to pleasure the way they do together. If Erwin has looked for him for the first time today, it's because he trusts him.

He did it because he noticed that he was tense and wanted to help him relax.

Of course, Erwin has noticed everything. Having seen Kenny, or believing that he has seen him, has confused him enough. 

He squeezes his face against his knees.

Erwin looked for him. For the first time, he did.

But to help him, not to help himself.

Deep down, even if he doesn't like to think about these things, he admits one: he's glad Erwin looked for him for the first time. 

But, as on other occasions, the one who got the most out of the experience wasn't Erwin, but him.

It's just that…

He opens his eyes and looks at the tiny room where he's alone. There is not a single candle lit in it; the only light comes from the window, from the moon peeping through the clouds on this cold winter's night.

Kenny wasn't the best father in the world; he wasn't a father at all. He spent most of his days drinking, fighting with someone, stealing, cheating, but Levi never lacked a plate of food or a blanket to protect himself from the cold or soap to keep clean. Kenny wasn't a father at all, and being the biological one it wouldn't change that fact, but he took care of him enough.

He's grateful even though, at the same time, he could never be completely. 

He hates this contradiction. He hates that he cares.

He needs to focus.

But how, if Erwin…

He can't use him like that, let himself be touched to get oblivion, emptiness, a clean sheet of paper in return. He may have underestimated the point, the idea of sleeping with him to blow off steam.

He wanted to stay, damn it. Now maybe he would be having a great time, Erwin would be doing those things to him, like when they rub against each other or like when he sticks his finger in him and rubs that spot that makes him crazy, not sitting against this door, in the same position of the worst moment of his life. 

Maybe he would be below Erwin, or on top of Erwin; he would be glued to Erwin, to his heat, enjoying himself to an extent that he doesn't know yet.

That he's longing to know, not because of the sensations, but because of the idea of sharing every damned sensation of absolute enjoyment with Erwin.

He gets up; he's angry, very angry. Not with Erwin, not even with Kenny or whoever the fuck that black coat guy was.

He's angry with himself for making such a big deal out of all this shit.

For being glad that Erwin looked for him, but not doing anything about it.

Because it has to be reciprocated.

Because he doesn't want to become a pig.

.

.

.

After his routine of every morning, he prepares coffee ready to continue what he left unfinished last night, the drafts of the budget forms. Stirring the coffee with a spoon to dissolve the sugar he just added, he thinks in numbers, concentrated, ignoring the first rays of the morning sun coming through the kitchen window.

"Excuse me, squad leader…"

He turns to the right: Petra Ral looks at him shyly. Erwin smiles at her.

"Good morning, Petra."

"G-good morning! Sorry, I should have said that first." 

She smiles at him as well. When Erwin prepares to leave, Petra inhales with her mouth open.

In the few days he has been in contact with her, he's never noticed her like this, nervous.

"Is there anything you want?" he asks her politely.

"In fact, yes. Although it's a bit… complicated."

Intrigued, Erwin invites her to have coffee with him. He pours her one, brings her the sugar and they sit at the only table in the branch kitchen.

"Tell me. Don't be shy."

Petra warms her hands against the mug; on her lips, a very tender smile shines above the rest.

"Today is the anniversary of my mother's death," she says. There's a lot of love painted on her face, but also sadness. "It's a difficult date."

Erwin just manages to smile a little.

"I'm sorry."

"Thank you." Petra drinks some coffee before continuing. "I'm an only child; since her death, it's just me and my dad. Dad never wanted me to enlist, but he trusts me and has always respected my decisions; he respects that I devote my heart to this fight. He lives near the headquarters, not far from Trost. Just tomorrow at noon our duty ends here, when our replacements arrive; we must be at the headquarters at night for the supplies we will transport in the wagon. I thought about…"

She shuts up. Erwin, with a smile full of understanding, urges her to continue by nodding. 

"Considering that you and Levi are here, I thought about asking you to authorize my journey with Oluo this midnight, not tomorrow. That way, although I'll see Dad late, I could at least have breakfast with him before going to the headquarters.”

Staring at her silently, Erwin analyzes the situation. 

Petra is quick to say something else:

"My heart belongs to our cause, squad leader; I know that the irresponsibility that betrays my behavior is inexcusable in this context and that…"

"No. You have your father alive, you love him and you want to hug him to remember your mother with him before you continue with your duty: you’re a daughter as well as a soldier, Petra, and it's fine. It’s very sweet."

Because she has a father to hug.

How much Erwin would give to have the right to say the same thing. 

Although he does have someone, someone who really matters to him and that shines in the crowd, a person who means more to him than the rest, someone made of flesh and blood among the ghosts of his past, those that torment him day and night, sometimes making themselves noticeable, sometimes just standing there, in the background, lurking.

He has Levi, who has unexpectedly become that special person who, more than once, always in loneliness since his dad's death, he has wished to have.

He has Levi, he shares his fight with Levi, and maybe he also…

Without showing more than seriousness before Petra, he considers. Is it wise? Is it acceptable? He must be ruthless in his decisions, it's the least he can do as a future commander.

That will be his title in a month and a bit more. 

Perhaps, this is the last time that…

He frowns; Petra swallows in front of him, more nervous than before, probably because of his prolonged silence.

It will be the last time, it will be.

He can never allow this again.

"It's true that to allow you to leave earlier than planned would be to expose both you and me to some kind of punishment from the commander," he says with a seriousness that he emphasizes all he can through his voice, his gaze, his gestures. He speaks as a commander, not as a squad leader. "However, considering your commitment and the facts you have well mentioned, I have no way of denying your request. Though I would ask you, in return, for a deep discretion. Also, I ask you to take extreme care with our supplies; they can't disappear on the way, they must arrive at the headquarters intact."

Moved, Petra nods.

"It means a lot to me, I don't know how to thank you…"

Erwin shakes his head.

"There's nothing to be thankful for. All I ask is that you await our return before you leave. Levi and I should be back shortly after midnight."

Petra nods. Her eyes are bright and they are covered by tears. How lovely she is. 

"Of course, sir. Oluo and I will wait for your return with the wagon ready to leave."

"Perfect."

Petra finishes her coffee, stands up, salutes with her right fist, and nods. Erwin dismisses her with a sober smile, the mask of the commander in the process of improvement. 

He has no father to visit, to kiss and hug, to tell how much he loves him.

But yes, it's true: there is someone special in his life now.

He has a beautiful puzzle, grumpy, awkward for intimacy, elegant for everything else, charming despite his peculiarities, with whom he needs to share a moment of privacy, perhaps the only one he can afford at this level for the next few months, even years. When he becomes a commander he won't be able to do this; neither will Levi, who soon, if everything goes well, will be the leader of a special operations squad.

A _captain_ for every soldier in the corps.

He may be making a reckless decision, but he needs it. Before their lives change forever, because they will, he needs to allow himself this unprecedented indulgence, perhaps the first one in a long, long time.

He needs to put that puzzle together, to do it to satisfy the needs of that side of his being that represents him outside of that future commander who gives his heart to the cause.

A human. 

The human who he is only when he's alone with Levi.

The human who belongs to Levi, not to him.

.

.

.

Erwin told him not to wear the uniform today, that a suit was more appropriate for this gala. Days before leaving the headquarters, he went to the commercial area to get something suitable, something that took him longer than necessary, as no tailor had a suit of his size.

Fuck.

The suit was made to measure; he had to stand in the middle of an atelier to have his body measurements taken, choose a color, a specific fabric.

Shit he never thought he could do, not someone like him.

This outfit was pretty expensive, he thinks when he looks at himself in the mirror with a black suit, white shirt, leather loafers, and a cravat a little finer than the one he usually wears. Pretty expensive, but it doesn't look bad. 

It looks good. 

When he stares at the mirror, he hates himself when he understands that, at least to some degree, he wants nothing more than to impress Erwin.

No one has ever told him he's beautiful. His mother told him that every five minutes, of course, as did her friends at the brothel, but apart from them, no, no one has ever told him that before. He's a fucking cork, he looks like he's smelling shit, he has dark circles under his eyes, and his build doesn't help him to be seen as what the society he belongs to considers an attractive man. He's everything that doesn't fit in with the pre-established canon, with the concept of masculine beauty more accepted within the walls that until very recently he didn't give a shit about.

But Erwin thinks he's beautiful.

He has never wanted to look beautiful. He has an unshakeable need to feel clean, so he spends the necessary on clothes, without shyness. He likes to dress _well_ , to take care of every detail of his appearance, but to stand out the cleanliness, not his looks. That is why he's also very insistent with his hygiene, with the tidiness he gives to his haircut, to the beard he shaves regularly, to keep his nails clean and short. He has standards of what he considers respectable and makes them prevail every day. It's not because of Erwin that he cares about his appearance.

But he did want to look good today. Because everything around Erwin Smith, the future commander of the Survey Corps, has to look good. 

Even him.

Someone knocks on his door. He adjusts his cravat in front of the mirror before opening.

Erwin looks at him in awe.

"What? Why are you looking at me like that?"

Erwin comes in and closes the door. Levi gazes at him: he's the most handsome man in this fucking world. He's wearing a black suit, a gray shirt, and a bow tie. His shoes are perfectly polished, they shine like stars; his hair, combed with a little more care than the one Erwin puts into it every day, is more slicked back than usual. Over his right shoulder, he has the sash that identifies him as the Survey Corps’ representative, a sash that only the commanders wear, but which he’s wearing today as old Shadis’ official envoy. 

"You look beautiful, Levi."

"Cheesy."

He turns around as he feels his cheeks warm. 

"Do I look well?" Erwin asks him from behind.

"You look good. Your hair shines like a rich baby's ass."

He hears him laughing. Always with his back to him, he allows himself to enjoy that laugh by closing his eyes for a moment.

"Are we leaving now?" he asks to change the subject, looking at himself in the mirror once more.

"The carriage will be here in fifteen minutes," Erwin says behind him as he puts his bow tie right. "We will travel with the commander of the Garrison."

"Huh?"

"His name is Dot Pixis. He's a very skilled and intelligent man who I respect deeply. Although he has an obvious preference for alcohol."

"As everyone in the Garrison."

Erwin laughs again.

"He sent me a note last night to let me know he'd pick us up. I think he wants to meet you."

"Uh-huh…"

"Only two more days." Erwin's huge hands rest on his shoulders; his eyes look at him through the mirror, right above him, and Levi feels as if the world were losing its bearings. "You're doing it very well."

The skin on the back of Levi's neck stands on end. This son of a bitch has no right to make it so difficult for him.

To just make him want to take his clothes off and…

"I'll need a weekend in the mountains after this," he says.

"I'll reward you as you deserve, I promise."

What does he mean by that?

Levi tries to let go, but fails; Erwin's eyes look at him so intently through the mirror that they manage to hold him more than his hands on his shoulders do.

"Can I make a suggestion?" Erwin asks.

Levi feels naked. He hates himself as much as last night; it's unacceptable to pay so much attention to this.

But there is nothing he can do about it.

"Which one?" he asks as he looks for the flaw in his image.

"I'll be right back."

Erwin keeps his word, comes back very quickly. He brings a towel, a bottle, and a comb. When he puts the chair Levi uses to sleep close to the mirror and rests on it what he brought, Levi looks at the bottle in more detail: it's that weird lotion Erwin uses on his hair and for which Mike and Hanji often make fun of him. Even Levi himself makes fun; Erwin spends too much money on his hair.

It's the only luxury he allows himself if he thinks about it. The only one.

Why is that?

Erwin stands up behind him, puts his hands on his shoulders, and looks at him through the mirror one more time. 

"My comb is perfectly clean," he assures. "Although I understand you might prefer to use yours for…"

Normally, Levi would run to get his comb, disgusted at the idea of sharing something he considers so intimate with someone else.

But he doesn't want to.

It's Erwin, and Erwin is clean.

"It's okay," he says in a voice as stoic as his face. 

Erwin smiles. It's as if he's grateful for the trust he puts in him. 

Levi doesn't keep looking at him; he concentrates his eyes on himself, on his hair, on thinking about what is wrong with having his hair combed the way he always does. Is it too informal? Erwin has combed his hair more carefully, after all. Maybe he should have combed it a little more.

Maybe he…

As he feels the hands on his hair placing some lotion, as he feels the comb go through it, as he sees the wise hands that touch it comb back his hair to give a more formal touch to his appearance, Levi swears to hear her.

The last person who combed his hair was the first one, too.

His mom.

His mom who combed his hair while singing the same old song, who combed his hair while he held the only mirror they had in the humble room they occupied inside the brothel.

Who combed his hair with a smile that he could catch on her lips through the reflection, a smile that didn't fit the circumstances in which they lived, his mother's hands taking care of each lock of hair with extraordinary devotion. Until she finished, and looked at him, and smiled at him.

_"You're beautiful, sweetie!"_

"It suits you perfectly."

The song that is repeated ad infinitum in the depths of his memory stops when Erwin speaks. Levi looks at himself in the mirror: Erwin combed his hair back, yeah, which makes his undercut look more striking. 

"Not bad," he says in a whisper. He thought he was calm before he said it.

When he hears himself, he knows he's not.

He turns around. It's like an embarrassment, like an impossibility. It's like when he looks at Erwin's bulge and thinks that he should return all his favors, that he should stop being so lazy, so detached, and give him pleasure too. 

He needs to stop being a pig.

Erwin gives him everything. Pleasure, joy, attention, protection, things he never had, things he no longer remembered having once.

Erwin makes violence fade from the universe. Just like in that room with the faded curtains, but differently, according to this different moment of his life.

Erwin cleans him up.

He makes him a better man.

He turns the rat into a person in the eyes of this shitty world.

Holding Erwin by the neck, he forces him to bend over, kisses him with fury, with vigor, with desire, with possession. Erwin's lips allow him to do what he wants when Levi wraps his arms around his neck. He breathes against his mouth at the end.

"Levi…"

"Alright, let's go," he answers the sigh he hears, desperate to stop this sham, to understand what the fuck he's doing, to give words to this heat that squeezes his chest and doesn't let him breathe properly whenever Erwin is around.

Erwin takes a deep breath, wipes his hands with the towel, and follows him when Levi leaves the room.

They cross paths with the recruits, greet them as they put all the supplies in the wagon with which they will ride to the headquarters tomorrow at noon.

As they leave through the gate of the branch, a luxurious carriage awaits them, with black walls and red curtains. As they get into the carriage, Dot Pixis, commander of the Garrison, smells of cheap whiskey but seems nice.

"Humanity's strongest soldier," he says as he shakes his hand. His cheeks are red. "Erwin has told me wonderful things about your talent! Rumors say you kill titans with ease."

"Something like that," he replies by crossing his arms and legs, as he softly closes his eyes. Erwin told him he could be antisocial if he didn't feel like talking to people; being so has given him relief amid this continual celebration of emptiness. 

Although this is not the case: he ends up talking a bit with Pixis when the latter mentions that he heard that he comes from the Underground. He's quite aware of his situation and Erwin seems to respect him; the old man is a drunk, but if Erwin thinks he can be trusted then he has nothing to worry about. 

Although he does worry, or rather it makes him uncomfortable, to think about what he told him.

Rumors about him? 

It makes him even more uncomfortable to think about it while he talks. What kind of things do people make up about him in their imagination? Like what Jaeger said, that his brat admires him.

What can a brat admire about a retired thug who cuts napes off with his comrades, a bunch of lunatics who defy death by looking the titans in the eye?

The carriage stops; through the windows, the lights of the sunset mingle with something that seems to come from huge torches. 

Pixis explains that he’ll go ahead and leaves the carriage after saying goodbye. Erwin comes out too, although he asks Levi to wait for him. He hears him talking to the driver through the glass that separates them before returning for him. He has just paid him.

"You can come out now," Erwin tells him.

Levi does so thinking about Jaeger's brat and the crazy rumors. He's just a rat, one of the Underground, who was given a chance by someone worthy of all the admiration he can get. That's all, there is nothing to admire.

It's Erwin who deserves all the…

After adjusting his cravat and listening to the carriage slowly drive away, Levi looks at the front of the Royal Palace. Torches surround a sky-blue carpet that matches the main dome of the massive building in front of him, full of details in gold that he couldn't adequately describe. That is, how can one describe something that has never been seen before? Like describing what is on the other side of the walls, that smell of freedom that fills his lungs and soul with a yearning for truth and justice. 

He doesn't have enough words in his vocabulary to describe the magnificence of the architecture of the Royal Palace, his eyes are not enough to look at the view, he can't use all his street smarts to explain what he's feeling.

But nothing is more beautiful than Erwin, Erwin in front of him with a smile, waiting for him to move forward on the carpet and to enter the Palace, Erwin who matches the fire of the torches and the sky-blue of the dome, as well all the golden details that, despite looking like they are made of gold, which is very likely, have nothing to envy to the perfect hair of this bastard, who looks at him as if it were him, Levi and not the Palace, the most beautiful thing he has right before him.

The same way Levi must be looking at him.

With no voice, no thoughts, knowing that this will be more difficult than he thought due to what is so obvious, that he's a rat that could never fit into a place like this, Levi clears his throat. He steps forward, stops next to Erwin, and swears he hears his mother singing behind him.

So much gold, so much luxury, so much beauty.

But these pigs will never care about freedom, not like Erwin.

Not like him.

Not like those people who, under his feet, are burning in the cruelest fire, that of the violence that means being invisible.

That of the injustice of this shitty world that is like a thousand walls at once.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much for reading! Again, I was delayed because I was too blocked to translate, something that has been very hard to do during the lasts chapters; besides, I'm writing an advanced scene that is very complex on a narrative level (if I succeed it will become my favorite scene in the whole fic) and I'm a bit out of focus. Add to that the eternal isolation in my city.
> 
> Thanks for being on the other side. :')
> 
> I really appreciate the feedback, the kudos, the visits, the RTs on Twitter, EVERYTHING. Everything helps, everything contributes, everything gives me tremendous encouragement to keep putting my heart into this fic! Thank you very much for everything. It's a warm caress to my heart!
> 
> About the coffee: I know, several final notes ago I corrected myself for using it improperly, but since coffee is a canon in this fic (???) I will continue using it. I'm sorry for the clumsiness. XD
> 
> A thousand kisses and GRACIAS TOTALES.


	25. XXV

Caresses.

"Mommy…"

More caresses.

"What is it, sweetie?"

And more caresses.

"What is a surname?"

The hands stand still, they stop caressing his hair. Although they don't let go of him but hug him over his shoulders.

"Surname…?"

Levi hugs her, too. Even though he still feels cold, at least he has her.

Because, even if it's too cold, his mom is always there to protect him. From climate, from needs.

From everything.

"Lola was reading me a tale and the main character had two names. I asked her why (I mean, I don't understand why someone would need two names instead of one, unless they sometimes use one and sometimes the other, like you) and she said one was the first name and the other was the surname."

"Well…" His mother caresses his face and kisses his forehead. Then she scratches the back of his neck as she smiles at him. "Let's put it this way: the first name is the one that belongs only to you; the surname is the name that… belongs to your whole family."

"I see…"

Hands scratch his neck, then his cheeks. Finally, while one tickles his chest, the other returns to the beginning.

To caress his hair.

"Do we have a surname?"

His mother hugs him with all her strength.

"We have one, yeah."

"And which one is it?"

Her arms squeeze more as if they're trying to give him all the strength they use, one that's not violent, but sweet.

A strength that comes from love.

"I promise I'll tell you about it. When you grow up, if we get the chance, I swear you'll know what it is."

"And what do you mean by getting the chance?"

His mother's heart, the most beautiful in the whole world, speeds up before her answer:

"It depends on… how strong you get when you grow up."

.

.

.

**XXV**

"Surname?"

"Just Levi."

The guard who checks the guests looks at him not without surprise, the same as usual, the one Levi is so used to. When he finds him on the list he's holding in his hands, he gives the order to the two guards behind him to let them through the fancy door. They cross the threshold, and what lies before them is an absurdly huge room decorated down to the last detail, lit by a sumptuous chandelier that looks like glass. It probably is made by it, he says to himself, though he has no idea about that.

Words are still not enough.

He looks around as he walks next to Erwin; he looks at Mitras' nobility in their element, men and women dressed in their best clothes. Men in suits of the finest fabrics, women in dresses of stunning design. All are wrapped in the most aesthetic neatness that his eyes have ever seen. 

He tries to pay attention to detail, even though it's hard for him; his eyes feel swamped, full of a thick smoke covering his vision. The room has grey marble walls and there is a column in each corner; silk curtains partially cover the windows towards the back of the room.

"Behind the curtains, there is a beautiful garden," Erwin says casually, perhaps having noticed his curiosity. 

A threshold between two windows on the back wall leads, through a colonnade, to the dining room where they will eat, Erwin explains in a whisper. After dinner, a representative of the Royal Government is supposed to make the big announcement about the money that the different members of the assembly will give them. Erwin will approach, sign some scrolls, and then he’ll just socialize to thank each donation received. Only after that, they will leave.

He can't wait to do it, Levi thinks as he feels the discomfort piercing his pores and tensing his whole body for more reasons than he can count. 

There are tables filled with food to the left and right, which are guarded by at least fifteen waiters; most of them are men. Just thinking about how much of this food will be wasted makes his blood boil, although he hides his discomfort so well that even Erwin doesn't notice any difference in him.

They walk through people, which are still not a lot as Erwin explains to him as they move forward until they reach the middle of the room. Paintings of unquestionable beauty showing landscapes of all kinds decorate the walls against which the tables are placed; around the chandelier, on the inner part of the dome, there are paintings directly on the marble showing strange human figures, creatures with bird wings, horned beings, little girls with golden hair dancing with their asses leave exposed. They remind him of the images that decorate the chapel that the Church of the Walls has in the Underground, the place where Levi used to ask for money when he was a child. The skies in the paintings are more heavenly than the one that is outside the walls.

But those colors could never be as bright as Erwin Smith's eyes.

Not without discretion, Erwin points at other paintings, which are on either side of the door through which they have just arrived, guys posing in fancy clothes, all of them men.

"Who are these ugly gentlemen?"

"The Fritz."

Levi's eyes open even more, especially for one in particular.

Underneath the painting of that man with long beard and eyes that look purple for some reason that doesn't make sense to him, he reads his name.

Karl.

Next to this Karl, the kings all look the same, a bunch of old bearded men who look dirty despite having the most elegant outfits on. Because those beards can be seen every day in the Underground, they're the ones that always distinguish the drunks who live on the streets! How strange that, despite looking the same as all the people outside this gala, these old men on those paintings and all the pigs around them feel so special, so superior.

They are all people, after all, but the difference exists.

That of the surname.

He knows that there is no point in sinking into this rejection that comes from him, but what an inevitable thing to do for an instant by contemplating how far the inequality extends within these fucking walls.

Despite all these luxuries, beauty, neatness, the truth is still only one. 

To Levi, these are pigs wallowing in the mud of their wealth, nothing else.

"Levi," Erwin says. "Come here, I want you to meet some people."

Hiding the disdain behind his stoicism, Levi moves forward. In the crowd, Erwin gets close to a fat, old, ugly guy with a grey beard and glasses who wears a suit and a sash like the one Erwin has, which means he's part of the military. Erwin greets him by taking a bow and shaking his hand.

"Commander Zackly, this is Levi."

This is the most important guy in the military? This old man with a pervert's face?

Erwin already explained to him that it's nice to be respectful in greetings in this context, so he does things the same way Erwin did. Taking a bow, shaking his hand.

"The jewel of the Underground," the old man says scratching his beard. "Erwin insisted a lot on getting you, boy."

 _Boy_?

Erwin _insisted_?

Erwin smiles with a certain shyness that probably only Levi can read in this crowd. 

Old Zackly asks him some questions about the Survey Corps, how well he has adapted to the military, things like that. Levi answers briefly, always serious, always stoic. The old man seems competent, at least.

"Erwin," Zackly calls him, "have you heard about it?"

Erwin frowns.

"I'm not sure what you mean, commander."

The old man laughs his head off holding his belly.

"You'll be surprised. Follow me."

The three of them walk through the crowd as Zackly makes some scathing comment about some pig, which Levi finds somewhat amusing, until, before him, he sees another man with a sash over his right shoulder.

"As you know," Zackly tells Erwin, "the commander of the MPs is about to retire. Well, here's his future successor."

Levi studies Erwin: when he looks at the one Zackly points at, his eyebrows almost jump out of his face in shock.

"Nile?" Erwin exclaims, confused.

Who is Nile? Levi remembers while he sees how the guy with the sash, who has a thin beard pathetically covering his face, leaps on Erwin to embrace him.

If he recalls correctly, they were friends as teenagers.

Was Nile the one who used to make fun of Sam, the first guy Erwin fucked with?

"I had no idea you'd be a commander," Erwin says.

"You're not the only one who has worked hard," Nile replies. "Who knew we'd both get to the same position at the same time!" Nile pats him on the back repeatedly as he talks.

Levi watches everything in silence. He's not used to seeing Erwin in such a familiar manner with someone else. He gets along with Mike, with Hanji, even with old Shadis, but no, he has never seen him like that with anyone.

This Nile is important to him, then.

Nile talks about how he was chosen for the job, he mentions some aspects of his work; Erwin nods and smiles naturally. One can tell that they were once friends, although also, as the conversation continues, Levi notices some implicit tension between them.

"I mean!" Nile chuckles. "Who'd have thought you'd get so far with those ideas of yours and your risky gambling!"

Erwin laughs; Levi notices he's not as natural as he used to.

He’s not, perhaps, because he doesn't like what he hears.

Finally, Erwin introduces him to Nile. The guy looks at him with his rat-like eyes and smiles condescendingly at him.

"What a surprise, Levi. People talk so much about humanity's strongest soldier! I didn't picture you like this; people talk about you as if you're bigger than a titan."

He pats him on the shoulder, a typical kind-hearted gesture, trying to be friendly with his scathing comments.

Levi decides he hates him.

Erwin laughs, but nervously. 

"How is Marie?" he hears him ask.

Marie?

"Pregnant! I wanted to bring her here, but I left her at our house in Rose. She's about to explode; should have our baby in a month. She's convinced it's another girl."

"Another one? Congratulations. Give her my regards, please."

Marie is… _that_ Marie?

Levi listens to them talk a bit more; with little, he gets the feeling that Nile and Erwin are like chalk and cheese. Although the conversation is friendly, yeah, and Erwin seems to appreciate him, some subtleties divide them. Nile talks about his work as if he were talking about obeying and nothing else (probably, that is all he has to do; pathetic attitudes according to the pathetic branch of the military to which he belongs), while Erwin doesn't explain himself too much, perhaps understanding that with guys like this one the only thing he'll do is waste time. It's even as if he's avoiding answering certain questions. Besides, Nile keeps on insisting with his idealism, with his gambling, with his weird ideas about truth.

Is he judging Erwin between the lines for everything that makes Erwin an extraordinary person? 

Really?

As Zackly disappears into the crowd, Levi takes advantage of the irritation that Nile inspires in him to pay attention to his surroundings. The most striking thing about the whole place, even above the paintings that decorate the walls and ceiling, is the women's dresses. Those who are holding their husbands' arms, those who are gathered in small groups spreading gossip; all of them are dressed as if the end of the world was going to come in five minutes; because they knew the world would come to an end they had decided to die with the best clothes they could wear in their fucking lives. Their dresses have elaborate designs and their fabrics are the most beautiful. 

How inevitable to think about his mother's co-workers. Wearing dresses a thousand and one times mended, but still looking splendid, all beautiful, all of them, though none as beautiful as his mom.

Because she…

A woman in a blue silk dress looks at him for a moment, in the distance; although she walks so fast next to her husband that Levi can't see his face. But that second is enough for him to feel examined in detail, almost obsessively. Having lived on the street helps to learn to perceive this kind of thing.

What the fuck?

He takes a deep breath, tired of Nile and his stupid talk about the MPs. He looks at Erwin to try to tell him, without a word in front of this guy, they should keep saluting pigs; Erwin seems to get the message.

"See you later," he says to Nile as he walks away from him.

Soon, Levi realizes that listening to Nile would have been better.

What follows is an endless number of greetings, of shaking hands with men and kissing women's hands. Those around them are the bearers of the best surnames on Wall Sheena, the most disgusting pigs Levi has ever met. They are like Lovof, all they care about is watching their asses and showing off their money; he only needs to listen to Erwin's exchanges with them to know that. 

Levi spends about half an hour greeting people he doesn't give a shit about. He listens, meanwhile, as Erwin delivers conversation with an enviable, eloquent, measured speech, as an expert determined to get what he wants, that is, the money. What a lovely evening, how well you look, what a pleasure to see you after so long…

No doubt about it: Erwin may need a few street smarts, but he understands very well how to deal with Mitras' pigs. He can speak their language and he knows how to make the most of that knowledge.

Still a manipulator.

Levi poses as a poster hanging from a pole in a corner, always to Erwin's right; he gets tired of hearing whispers about his height and pretends to laugh at stupid jokes. If he says something, he's sharp when he does it; he doesn't talk a lot, he just stays in his place. He studies, meanwhile, every detail of every garment he sees. He doesn't know much about fabrics, but they all look as expensive as some of the ones the tailor showed him when he had the suit he's wearing made.

They were unreachable for his soldier's pay.

"I'm a little surprised," Erwin tells him as he says goodbye to one last guy.

"Of what?"

Erwin invites him to approach the table on the left. Levi has never seen so much food together.

It's…

A waiter appears and offers them a drink. Erwin asks him if he wants some whiskey or wine. Levi accepts the whiskey.

Anything to keep him entertained is better than keeping his eyes swamped.

They move away from the people a little, who continue with their ephemeral exchanges, locked in their bubble of emptiness.

"I was saying," Erwin continues, "although the announcement is after dinner, some nobles who don't usually give us money have already confirmed they will."

"Huh?"

"Yes. If I understand correctly, many have regained interest in donations to the Survey Corps because of my future promotion."

Levi takes a sip of whiskey and clears his throat before he speaks.

This shit is strong.

"How long has old Shadis been commander?"

"About ten years. I think he holds the record."

"The old man is hard to kill."

"Plus, he's the first one in history to quit." Erwin drinks a little whiskey, too. The smile with which he tries to hide everything that makes him feel the drink is a little creepy. "For years my squads have had a reputation among the people for having the highest rate of killings as well as the lowest number of casualties. Also, many of those who were under my command ended up having their squads, like Mike, Flagon, and, as long as I survive the next expedition, you and Hanji."

"You're giving a squad to four eyes?"

"That's the first thing I'll do: Hanji's research is essential to our future. On top of that, I think it's important to keep an eye on, observe and prepare both Hanji and Mike; I see in both of them two potential successors in case I die, I think they have conditions to be good commanders." The bastard, as if to make it worse, laughs when he says it. 

A chill runs down Levi's spine when he hears him. He hides his tension by drinking more whiskey, but he can't quite calm down.

The fact that Erwin is thinking about the long term doesn't surprise him, but it's still disturbing that he should be thinking about that too, that one day everything can go to hell and, no matter how hard he has tried for years, a titan will end it all by chewing him.

But no, he swears by making a fist behind his back.

That won't happen. 

"I see you have made a name for yourself," he just replies.

"It was the right thing to do." Erwin moves the drink to stir it. 

Levi can relate to that concept. Underground or military; it's all about making a name for oneself as long as one wants to prevail.

Replace the surname one doesn't have with something else.

"Now I understand why Jaeger's son thinks you should be the commander. If even a potential lunatic brat understands that, these pigs must be dying to bet on the Survey Corps under your command. I mean, you'll probably give them results that will allow them to boast about supporting you. If you do, ordinary people will still not question them, they'll even continue to support them as those who rule them."

Erwin smiles, though in a different way. 

There is another kind of pride in his gesture.

"Exactly, Levi. You read the situation perfectly." He smiles soberly, given the context, and returns to that serious expression that so characterizes him. "Appearances are everything here, which means that as long as you can show them that supporting you will empower them in return, they'll give you their extra money to get that symbolic value." As he speaks, Erwin's voice becomes quieter. After taking a deep breath, he finishes his idea very close to him, in a whisper. "Before the blind eyes of a deluded society, a morality that seems to be superior to others will make shine even the rustiest of metals."

"It’ll make smell good even the most rotten piece of shit," Levi adds, looking at him sideways, to which Erwin only responds with a giggle. 

It's about having something to brag about to prevail.

As the tale that Erwin read to him said: bright walls that distract from real problems. 

A bright morality that hides all the shit that keeps growing inside them.

"Admit it, blondie: the shit metaphor is better."

"Indeed." Erwin takes another sip of whiskey before he continues, not without laughing again. "Although I find it a bit curious that the families closest to royalty, in other words, those representing the Royal Government assembly, never give us a cent. Those who do it are usually families that, although they belong to the nobility, are not the ones with the most distinguished surnames."

Because everything here is a matter of surnames, after all. Yeah.

Surname that he doesn't…

"Maybe it won't make a difference before people's eyes," he concludes. "Or they just don't give a shit."

"It's probably a little bit of both."

They keep drinking, although Erwin speaks again soon:

"How do you feel now?"

Levi sighs.

"Disgusted. Remember that I still can't understand how the fuck I got here."

Erwin nods.

"Don't think I'm done understanding that." Looking at what little whiskey he has left, Erwin seems a little more relaxed. He looks more like the human, not the future commander. "I'm from wall Rose, my family wasn't exactly wealthy. I didn't grow up in an environment like this one. Although I understand I can't compare that to the Underground."

The gaze Erwin gives him after his words has a touch of shyness that makes his heart ache. Levi can't help but think about what happened after seeing Kenny, everything he has been doing wrong.

Although maybe it's not about not trusting Erwin, because he does, he even trusts him to go to hell if he has to.

He doesn’t trust himself.

It's about how much he might mess up his relationship with Erwin what…

In the background, the woman in the blue dress is staring at him again, although, like the previous time, she walks away too quickly.

What the fuck is wrong with her? Why is she looking at him like that?

"So you're from Rose?" Levi asks, looking at the crowd, concealing with his stoicism the supreme discomfort of feeling so examined.

"Didn't I tell you?"

"Not that I remember."

"I grew up east of Stohess. After my father's death, the government sent me to an orphanage in Karanese; I spent just over a year there."

"Why?"

"Because I enlisted."

"At what age?"

"12." 

"You were just starting to get hair on your dick."

Erwin laughs again.

"I was also starting to change my voice."

"How awful your bratty voice must have been." By drinking, Levi helps himself to hide his surprise. He knows that people enter the Training Corps at a very young age, but at 12? They're kids, not much more than that.

Do they have enough capacity to make that choice at that age? It shouldn't be like the Underground; brats shouldn't grow up this fast.

He thinks of Ymir, the little thief. 

There is shit everywhere, whether they want it or not, shit that urges immature brats to join the military. Some out of necessity, some out of aspirations, some to make their shit shine.

Others because their life story asked them to.

He frowns when one of the representatives of the Royal Government invites them all to dinner. In lines, the guests move into the dining room, a very similar place to the previous one with its respective chandelier illuminating the paintings on the walls. The tablecloths are of a white that Levi hasn’t seen in his life.

Everything is clean by his standards, even beyond them, though he hates to admit it in a situation like this. 

But even this cleanliness doesn't make him comfortable. 

At the back of the room, two steps are leading to the main table, the one where the top representatives of the Royal Government sit and eat. In the middle, a golden chair upholstered with red silk remains empty.

"Where is the king?" Levi asks.

"He never comes to these galas."

Does he care so little?

They sit down at the table closest to the main one, next to old Zackly, old Pixis and that rat-eyed asshole, Nile, who during the whole dinner makes the rest laugh with stories about that Erwin he met in the Training Corps, the boy with absurdly hairy eyebrows who always made up weird stories and was passionate about the most absurd tactics. Zackly laughs, although he seems more interested in the wife of a pig who is at the next table, to whom he doesn't stop staring for a second; Pixis laughs too, but it seems that he doesn't empathize with Nile, but with Erwin and that creativity that Nile's stories show and that was privileged at that age, or he empathizes more with the bottle of wine that he doesn't take long to empty; Erwin pretends to laugh, but no, he doesn't.

Levi concentrates on the music that he hears. As Pixis said when it began to sound, it's a harp, and it's played by a young man sitting in the middle of the room, who is very well dressed and moves his hands elegantly on very thick strings. He has never heard that instrument, although he had heard of its existence.

The melody, full of melancholy, is the only thing that manages to relax him. 

Just like the song his mother hummed to him every night.

He puts on his worst shit-smelling face while he eats. Nile starts talking about the bar they used to go to with Erwin and that Marie.

Is that the same Marie that Erwin used to date?

Is that why there is an implicit tension between Erwin and Nile?

The dinner is delicious, he tastes meat and vegetables that he didn't even know that existed; the waiters are very kind and the wine is the best he has ever drink; the music achieves the wonderful effect of making everything around him more pleasant, filling his ears with a mist that, instead of making him feel swamped, pierces him. Cutlery shines, plates shine, centerpieces shine. So do the walls, the ceiling, the chandelier that looks like glass. Even the eyes of those creatures with wings that decorate the marble of the ceiling shine.

But no.

Sunk in a silence that allows him to control everything he's feeling while sitting in this spotless room, hiding from everyone everything he's experiencing during this gala, Levi feels something that perhaps he has never felt before.

That it's all a lie.

Although everything is so clean and looks so dreamy, although the music sweetens his experience along with how delicious the food is, nothing, except Erwin, is real inside this room.

It's enough for him to remember himself in the closest thing to a gala in the Underground, when his mother's closest friends spent one night every few months drinking, talking, and eating something a little more elaborate than the little they could eat every day. Because the customers paid well, but most of the money was for the brothel's owner.

In Lola's room, Levi stayed in his mother's lap while they played cards and talked about things he didn't understand. Not about sex, because they never talked about that when they were aware that he could hear them, but about more abstract, more idealized things.

About a new dress.

About a good dinner in a good tavern.

About the sky outside.

About a sweet man with love in his eyes.

About a mirror without stains.

About a body without bruises.

About a house with new curtains.

The plates were worn-out as were their clothes a thousand times mended and their eyes tired of so much injustice, as were the glasses in which they drank that cheap wine.

But their voices, laughing.

Their laughs were real.

It made them happy to have themselves on the verge of hell, just as it makes their comrades happy to have themselves despite all the deaths that await them out there.

Because there is no need to make shit smell good in one place or the other.

Because there is no shit to beautify.

Here, instead, it's like Erwin said.

There are only pigs who are unaware of their privileges, who think that life it’s just about this, beauty, smelly cleanliness, appearances, and false high morals.

Pigs who are free, but who, within the walls, are only free at the expense of the lack of freedom of others, of those who don't have a plate of food, of those women who sell their bodies to live another day.

Because these pigs are already free, yeah, but their freedom is fake.

Because the privilege of having money and power is synonymous with freedom, but, within these walls governed by injustice, that freedom is not well distributed.

That is why he’ll never fit into a place like this.

Because he sees the threads inside this lie.

He swears it to himself as he looks at the empty plate, as he looks at the creatures with bird's wings on the marble ceiling: he'll fight, he'll do it until his heart stops beating and he has nothing more to offer.

Until his last breath, he'll fight.

But for those lives that have meaning to him, not for the others.

Not for these pigs who only want him to fight so they have something to boast about the morning after the good news.

If there are people who matter in his fight, they are not them, these pigs who smell bad even though they look good.

He does it for _them_. 

For those who are under their feet and depend on the pigs from above and below to live another day.

For his comrades.

For Erwin.

For Erwin Smith, first and foremost, yeah.

For no one else. 

"Attention, please!" a pig exclaims from the main table, a member of the Royal Government assembly. The harp stops playing immediately. "The time has come to announce the budget."

Levi looks at everything that happens without looking at all: every military representative kneels before the two steps. Standing before them are four members of the assembly, including a pastor from the Church of the Walls. They read some scrolls, hand each one to each representative of each faction, and all applaud. The MPs have received the largest budget, although the number of the Survey Corps is not so different.

Is that good news?

Erwin returns to the table.

"They gave us almost twice as much as they usually do," he whispers to him as he sits down. 

Erwin doesn't smile with his mouth, but Levi knows he's doing it with his voice.

Excellent news, yeah.

After dessert, people scatter around the room, as the harp plays happier songs. Some return to the previous room, others walk around the gardens, others socialize between tables. Erwin asks him to accompany him when he approaches certain pigs to shake their hands and thank them for their donations. He takes his time to talk to each one, of course, and to spin webs with words to make his own shit smell good, the one he uses to manipulate them by pretending to be nice and making all kinds of promises. Some pigs explain why they have added some more money - because they are convinced of helping to find the truth of this world thanks to the unconditional support of the nobility that protects the deepest interests of the people because it blah blah blah and there must be results because it can't be that the Survey Corps wastes the money that the good people of the Capital give it in such good faith for blah blah and the people and their interests and long live our higher morals and see what good people we are and…

"So you are Levi. My wife is dying to meet you after hearing so many rumors about you!" a pig with big eyes, little mouth, overweight body, and sparse white hair tells him as he approaches him, who stands right next to Erwin. "This is Levi, my dear, humanity's strongest soldier."

Behind him, appears the woman in the blue silk dress, finally.

But she's more than that.

It's a face so familiar, so well-known, that Levi goes pale. She also does so, though she conceals it well, and gives him her hand to kiss. 

“She’s Dolores,” the pig says when Levi puts his lips against her skin. 

He recognizes her scent, he can’t believe it, and how capable the scent is of taking him back in time, doing it for its genuine beauty, for how many good memories in the middle of hell it evokes.

It's the first hand he hasn't been sick of kissing since he came to this pigsty made of gold. 

It's the confirmation that not everything is black or white, that the world is painted in shades.

Not everything smells like shit inside this palace.

The pig greets Erwin, pronounces his important surname; Erwin greets him warmly and, together with another pig, starts a new conversation about the importance of the Survey Corps starting to give results from the money that the highest society in the world is giving it in good faith for…

"Levi, sweetie…" Dolores whispers to him; her voice breaks a little when she says his name. "Come here, let's talk in private. Follow me, take me by the arm, and let's pretend to talk about the exquisiteness of the place setting or something like that."

Levi does everything she asks with a smile that he doesn't know where it comes from, but which he had trapped in some corner of his being that perhaps he had never explored again, not since _that_ day, and together they move towards the garden behind the curtains.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I confess that I had written a very long final note in which I explained many things that appear in the chapter. Among those things, there was the music, the assembly of the Royal Government, Nile and Erwin's relationship, who Dolores is, etc., but I found it too redundant and boring.
> 
> It also made me a little nervous to publish it because it had a lot of Levi analysis as a character and why I consider that he doesn't fit the orthodox definition of a hero. He's more a man who has seen too much and therefore has very strong priorities in his heart, and the truth is it was too much of a personal point of view that made the note more a (attempt to) meta than a final note of a fic. 
> 
> It was a nonsense, in short.
> 
> I know you don't mind those long notes and I thank you very much, but this time I preferred to discard it because I was uncomfortable reading myself there and didn't find it useful for you.
> 
> But I'm going to rescue this, because at the end of the day this is the most important of all: THANK YOU VERY MUCH FOR EVERYTHING! For the kudos, the bookmarks, for sharing the fic, and above all for your comments, which give me life, encouragement, strength and the greatest happiness in the world. 
> 
> And thank you so much for having patience with my English; I know that I'm not perfect and I'm very sorry if you are not feeling the fic as I would like you to feel it because of my inability to translate as well as possible, but please know that I'm trying very hard and I'm willing to keep trying to keep learning and sharing the best translation possible with you. 
> 
> A thousand thanks for everything from the bottom of my heart. ♥


	26. XXVI

**XXVI**

Handshake, sober smile, iron look, titan's conviction; that is his routine, the strategy he has been improving for years.

In Mitras, every strategy is based on making a name for oneself, in doing so to be respected even though one is not at an advantage. Because everything depends on the surname, always, and whoever doesn't have one must replace the inheritance that comes from birth with something.

In his case, with ingenuity.

It's not so difficult, he thinks while he talks lightly; it's a matter of flattering a lot, of doing it all the time and without overacting. As he has learned, Mitras' high society doesn't need much more than to see its ego inflated. As long as you are inflating their egos, they will let themselves be wrapped by webs made of words; having a surname doesn't confer ingenuity, not necessarily.

That is why he chose it as his main weapon. 

But something stops him in the middle of his masterful performance, a thought.

An absence to which he never wants to get used. 

"Levi?" Erwin asks. He has spoken so much about how much the Survey Corps wishes to make worth every cent of the unselfish effort of the most exemplary men and everything related to that overly repetitive speech that he didn't notice when he disappeared.

"He's talking to my wife," the noble says, before whom he has been acting for minutes. 

"Ah, I didn't notice he left with her."

"Don't worry so much, squad leader: your soldier is the strongest, a little conversation with a lady who could be his mother won't hurt him."

Erwin nods, smiling, even though he just pretends. Levi talking to someone he just met who belongs to the nobility that makes him so uncomfortable? He may have the most enigmatic expression, but Erwin has already learned how to read the letters that are hidden behind the ice.

He hasn't stopped noticing him uncomfortable, tense, nervous since they arrived.

Talking to someone here is not something that can go unnoticed, not if it’s about Levi. 

Until he sees him.

The noble's wife returns clinging to Levi's arm. She leaves him, holds her husband's hand and, after apologizing with the most attentive cordiality, urges him to go away with her. 

Alone, Erwin allows himself to sink into his thoughts; Levi doesn't look at him at any moment. He's serious, too much even for him and his imperturbable stoicism. 

How could he allow a pig's wife, as he calls them, to even hold him by the arm in such an intimate way? 

The noble returns with his wife after a few minutes. He's somewhat intimidated, although it's also noticeable that he tries to hide it.

"It seems your soldier has impressed my wife, squad leader." The man doesn't say it with confidence; he says it nervously, almost frightened. "It's because of this enthusiasm that I have decided to add a little more money and send it to you to the headquarters soon, through your messengers. I'll almost duplicate the number to express the hope that my wife has just shared with me for your cause. That's right, yes! I-I hope you'll remember my selfless contribution when it comes to giving good news to the people!"

He shakes his hand and leaves. The woman delays by holding Levi's hand and smiling at him. He kisses her and leaves her.

Then, she gives her hand to Erwin. She's a beautiful woman with grey hair and pale skin, maybe fifty-five years old, although her figure is certainly stunning in a very particular way. What deep brown eyes look at him when Erwin kisses her.

"Please take care of him," she says sweetly. 

Erwin doesn't answer right away. Overwhelmed, he sees Levi smiling in response, though only for an instant. It's not an effusive smile, but it's one he hasn't noticed before, not in Levi.

A childish smile.

"Levi, what…?"

"Forget it," he answers, harsh. "Hurry up and finish so we can get out of this pigsty as soon as possible."

In the distance, the noble's wife smiles tenderly at Erwin, her lips as bright as her blue silk dress. 

Who is she?

Erwin knows he doesn't have time to ask Levi, or even to ask himself, so he continues with the routine.

Handshake, sober smile, iron look, titan's conviction.

Soon, after minutes and minutes of inertia and acting, of spider webs and exaggerations, there is no one left to thank, so they leave.

They get into the carriage almost at midnight. They go alone; Pixis stayed drinking and talking with Nile and Zackly, something Erwin might have done too if he hadn't been accompanied. Taking advantage of the solitude inside the carriage, he waits for it to start the twenty minutes ride to talk. When the wheels move under his feet, he says the only thing that comes to his mind: 

"Did you know her?"

Levi, with his legs and arms crossed, is on his right, as usual. He just nods with his eyes lost in the night that the window shows him.

Seeing that he adds nothing, Erwin decides to push his luck a little further.

"From where?" he asks.

Levi takes his time before answering, his eyes always on the window. 

"It's beside the point."

"I'd agree with you, but it's hard for me."

"Why?"

"She was a noble, you don't like nobles."

"I don't like pigs. I have nothing against their wives; we are all rats for those who have power, even those who belong to the same fucking social class."

Erwin remains silent. Mentally, he agrees. Who is not a rat to them? They, who look at humanity behind the huge wall Sheena as if it were not only a wall, but also a mountain, one from which they look at the world with disdain.

Even their wives.

"Say it, blondie. You are dying to say it."

Erwin stares at him: Levi is looking at him sideways and with special attention.

"What do you mean?"

"Ask me how a noble knows a rat from the Underground."

It's true. Erwin tries to analyze it as fast as he can. He can't think of any possible connection, unfortunately.

"How do you know her?" he asks. He wonders, in turn, if this is an invitation.

Levi soon confuses him even more:

"Explaining how I know her requires other explanations that I don't feel like giving you. To give you an idea, I lived with Farlan for seven years, and yet I only told him about it three years after meeting him. And I never told Isabel, with whom we lived for two years."

Erwin gets goosebumps, the cold from the outside colliding with the natural heat of his body. It's not only the weight of what Levi has told him but the additional information he has given him by doing so. 

Did he live with Church for so many years? Did he know Magnolia for so little time?

He answers by saying the only thing he has the right to say:

"Tell me when you want to. Tell me someday or never. I have my secrets too, Levi, and I respect you."

Levi sighs. His stoicism doesn't work as well as it usually does; Erwin easily notices how much annoyance stains his features.

Perhaps the truth that lies behind it's bigger than it seems.

"It's not that I want to be mysterious or some stupid thing like that; it's that saying all this is like throwing all my shit in your face." Levi looks at him. He's still as serious as he was at the Palace. "But not telling you would be pointless, that is the problem."

At the drop of a hat, Erwin is so moved that he cannot say a word. Maybe hope makes him misread the conversation, but maybe, even if through a messy speech, Levi is telling him exactly what he longs to hear.

That he wants to trust him even though he doesn't want to say what he would have to say to do so. That means yes, Levi trusts him.

He's just not ready to say any more than he has told him.

Erwin looks at him as if he was the most wonderful thing, and nods with a lump of emotion in his throat.

"Thanks for the extra money you got."

Levi looks at the window, again. 

"I didn't ask her for anything. She told me she believed in me and that she would manipulate her pig to get the money. Thank her, not me."

They keep silent. Erwin wonders what kind of truth as heavy as a wall is behind Levi's eyes, the ones that no longer look frozen in front of him, but do keep stories that, he imagines, bring lots of trauma and pain. 

His secrets may be nothing in comparison.

His secrets…

"My father was a teacher," he says. He rejoices in the naturalness of his voice, in the calm, in the little pain in his throat when he says it. "He had a theory about the truth of this world, one that I hope to be able to detail to you in-depth in the future. One day he told it to me due to a question I asked him in class, and I told it to my little friends at school, I told it in the middle of the street, surrounded by people, anyone, even though my father had told it to me alone in our house and not in front of others. Then my father disappeared."

"Someone killed him," Levi says. Erwin appreciates the seriousness with which he talks to him, the same seriousness with which he looks at him out of the corner of his eye.

"Yes."

"Who?"

"Someone who doesn't want humanity to question reality."

Levi's eyes open a little too wide. He looks disturbed. 

.

.

.

It hurts like shit.

Because it's always the same.

It's always the same fucking story, the one they loved the most, dead because of something they both consider their fault. 

Not being the right person in the right context.

Being two brats with not enough experience to be helpful.

.

.

.

"You didn't have to tell me all this," Levi replies.

Erwin looks for his closest hand and holds it without shyness; Levi allows him to do so. The touch gives him energy, confers Erwin a huge strength, as if Levi infects him with a pinch of his talent and that pinch was enough to make him feel invincible.

This is how he feels with Levi, both humanly and professionally, in every possible way.

Invincible.

"I know. I just let myself be carried away, that is all."

Just by saying it, he understands how serious he is. Maybe he has wanted to tell him this for too long, maybe even longer than he's able to tell.

The relief he experiences confirms it instantly; that is the point. 

He wants Levi to know everything about him, every detail, every secret, every reason he has to smile, and every reason he has to feel sad. He wants Levi to guard his truth, to keep it in his hands, to protect it as he already protects his heart. He has never wanted someone to know so much about him, he has never felt that he wastes no breath talking about what he dreams and wants. Because that is what it's all about, yes! It has been enough for him to see Nile and talk to him to see the difference within himself, one that he also perceives in Levi, one that he has never perceived in another person. 

These words that he has held in his throat for years have found their perfect recipient.

He has never felt this confidence to be himself with such freedom nor this need so big, so powerful to make the other person feel the same, that Levi knows he can trust him as well.

That, even though his heart is weak and he doesn't deserve so much, Erwin can take care of his truth, too. 

But he has to give him time.

Sooner or later, Levi…

"Although I understand your shit a little better now, Erwin. Now I understand why this is so important to you."

Moved, Erwin nods. It's easy to do so, he understands; he doesn't need to explain in depth.

Levi sees beyond him in a way that doesn't make him feel guilty, that doesn't make him feel bad when he thinks about all the disgusting things he has inside of him. Before Levi, to be naked in body and soul is easy.

He has nothing to be ashamed of, not even his vulnerability.

The idea overwhelms him so much that he cannot help smiling; it's refreshing and tastes like justice after the last hours and the last acting. 

He looks at his feet and keeps smiling. Levi's energy floods his being through the contact between their hands, and it's precious and inspires him to be the best version of himself without asking anything in return, nothing, but the strength to go on with him.

To keep fighting, next to each other as equals.

.

.

.

After so much, feeling Erwin's hand on his is like a slap that gives him pleasure.

It squeezes his heart, destroys it, rebuilds it.

He has to stop him.

But how, if this slap injects life into him?

It's like when he used to see stoned people in the streets of the Underground, like when those people were in an alley, with no money, no future, with lost eyes and a body as hard as a corpse. This is how he feels, falling into the abyss by an overdose that squeezes his chest too much. That hurts him but makes him happy.

That confines him to this, to stay still next to Erwin, unable to stop him.

Because he doesn't want to.

No, never.

But how does he cope with this pain that gives him pleasure? Tonight, everything that has happened, having seen that ghost, having found himself again through it. To have done so amid the most uncomfortable situation, that realization that inequality is more violent than he thought, that violence exists beyond his capacity to understand. That understanding that he's not fighting for all those who live within the walls, but for those who are not free within them.

For them and for this bastard who holds his hand and squeezes it, and in doing so squeezes his heart in the flesh.

He needs to end this, to move away from Erwin, to move away from all, to shut himself in his room, and to digest all that has overflowed him.

But there will be no time.

Through the window, when the carriage stops, he sees Petra and Oluo's cart ready to leave in front of the branch.

"What the fuck?" he whispers, Erwin's hand like a too-heavy rock, motionless over him. 

.

.

.

Seeing the recruits' cart, just by looking at them, Erwin remembers the promise that the importance of the gala buried in his memories.

It's true.

This is just getting started. 

In a rush, Erwin squeezes Levi's hand between his own, though he doesn't turn to him as he does so.

"There was a change of plans."

"Huh?"

"The recruits are leaving tonight. We'll be alone until noon tomorrow."

He swears that Levi's hand is shaking within his own. Does it, or does the shaking come from himself?

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

They look at each other the best they can inside the darkness of the carriage. Erwin knows his hands are sweating, but he asks himself for patience, confidence, calm.

Naturalness.

"Let's meet in my room in one hour, please," he whispers against his ear, staring at it under his lips, illuminated by the moonlight that comes from the window.

No light beautifies Levi's skin more than this one, he discovers wrapped in the most beautiful epiphany.

Because, thanks to this light that illuminates Levi, which beautifies him as if the moon belonged to him, he has just realized that he lost the battle and he can no longer do anything about it.

He just has to accept it.

They get out, and the carriage that brought them here moves away after receiving their pay. Levi looks at him for the last time; what his face says is impossible to read even for him. Meanwhile, Petra and Oluo are close to them, ready to leave.

"Trust me," Erwin mutters as he leaves him behind, smiling.

Because he lost the battle, yes.

The love he feels for Levi, which fills him and lifts him to heaven, exists.

.

.

.

Levi goes away not without questions. Why do the recruits leave today, if their replacements arrive tomorrow?

_ "I'll reward you as you deserve, I promise." _

What the fuck does this mean?

He walks to his room not paying attention to the road itself; he walks with an empty mind, but also full, covered by shit and confusion. It's as if the smoke of the Royal Palace continues to swamp him, but not only his eyes, but everything, everything that he is and that surrounds him.

He enters his room and, as he closes the door, leans his back against its surface. He remains still, as still as possible, unable to contain this strength that fills and unbalances him, this excess of information that overflows him.

Lola.

He never thought he'd see her again.

Lola, who was his mother's closest companion at the brothel, was well-born. An abusive husband, an absent family, and a complaint that the MPs didn't take seriously had confined her to being a prostitute in the Underground. Her good education allowed her to make a difference among her co-workers in terms of hygiene, health, and even everything related to the job. Lola taught her co-workers everything, including what was related to sex. 

The little he knows comes from her, too. Above all, what allowed him to appreciate Erwin like this.

The ability to separate gentlemen from pigs. 

Shortly before her mother's death, Lola left as soon as the opportunity came up. A pig with a good surname, her most frequent client for years, asked her to marry him and assured her a life on the outside by pulling some strings to erase her past and create a new one. 

He remembers holding his mom's hand with all his strength when they said goodbye to her. Next to him, his mom was crying inconsolably.

Lola, or Dolores, as she was called after leaving the brothel, told him that she could manipulate her husband to make him give them money; she told him that she had talked about him once, about that boy from the brothel. It wouldn't take much to convince him.

She did it, but…

_ "I'm glad to see you like this, sweetie, far away from that filthy Underground. I had read about you in the paper, I had read your name, but I wasn't sure if it was you." _

_ "I don't think there are many Levi without a surname out there." _

_ Silence. _

_ "I went to see you, you and Kuchel. The pig we worked for told me that a man took you with him." _

_ "Kenny. Sounds familiar to you?" _

_ Silence, again. _

_ "I'm not sure…" _

_ And another silence. _

_ Why? _

_ "I'm very sorry I wasn't helpful in time." _

_ Is she changing the subject? _

_ "You were helpful; Mom was fond of you." _

_ "Same; Kuchel was wonderful. You look more like her now than when you were a kid, it's like having her in front of me. I'm impressed by how beautiful you are. And how strong! You are the hope of our people…" _

_ "No. Erwin is." _

_ "He looks at you in a special way." _

_ And a new silence. _

_ And a pain pricking his chest, like a needle. _

_ Like a knife cutting him in two. _

_ "Does he?" _

_ "Yeah. It may sound cliché, but a prostitute, or an ex-prostitute, notices things, you know? I also noticed how you look at him." _

_ "How do I look at him?" _

_ "Like a knight would look at his fragile princess in a fairy tale; you look at him with extraordinary devotion." _

_ One last silence, but no. _

_ It's the first silence that comes from him, not from her. _

_ "It was him who took me from the Underground, I suppose I'm grateful." _

_ "Is that all?" _

He looks at the clock on his right, hanging on the wall. One hour.

Why…?

Levi remains still against the door; he wants to move, but he feels he cannot, as if something immobilizes him. He cannot admit it, he's unable to do so, but Lola's words are an echo that keeps hammering his brain.

A special way?

Is that all…?

It also hammers the difference, the surnames, the boastful pigs, the stunning dresses, the inequality.

Because it's not fair that…

He looks at the clock again. Fifty minutes left. Ten minutes are gone, as if nothing had happened.

…Erwin probably made up some excuse so that they could stay alone at the branch and Levi could agree to sleep with him. In other words, Erwin created a moment to be alone out of nowhere.

Is it going to happen?

Are they going to fuck?

He approaches the only window in the room and watches the front of the branch from the second floor: Erwin is looking at the cart moving slowly away. 

They're going to fuck, yeah.

He looks at his clothes, expensive, sumptuous; he wants nothing more than to tear them off. He didn't see it coming, he had no idea; he never thought that they could ever be alone and have a moment of intimacy that doesn't require discretion, caution, locked doors, hands silencing screams.

He lights a candle helped by the little light the moon throws into the room. He looks at himself in the mirror while swallowing. His clothes are burning; the very idea of this night alone with Erwin turns him on too much, vehemently.

But he cannot be an idiot; he cannot ruin everything again.

He cannot let Erwin do everything.

Because he doesn't want Erwin to be…

That is what he thinks about when he takes off his clothes and wraps himself in a clean towel. No, Erwin cannot be that. He cannot! With the candle in his hand, he goes to the bathroom in the hallway. After taking a shower, he stays underwater. Breathing heavily, full of anxiety and diffuse, powerful desires, he cleans himself inside using as much water as possible. This process of cleansing such intimate areas never ceases to make him feel pathetic, although it also fills him with a relief that he cannot understand.

Perhaps it's knowing that, by being clean even between the legs, he becomes a little worthier of all the brightness, beauty, cleanliness that always surrounds Erwin.

What the fuck is he thinking?!

He moans with his forehead leaning against the wall as he reaches that magic spot Erwin knows how to touch so well. Why the fuck does it feel so intense to touch there when putting his fingers in?

Why doesn't he just ask Erwin?

Erwin, who just told him about his past, about the wall Rose where he grew up, about how bratty he was when he enlisted, about his old man that was a teacher and his death, about why this cause is important to him. Erwin, who can tell the truth.

He moans louder before he leaves his ass alone. He cleans his whole body with soap one last time, just in case, and then one more time, because it never hurts to do it again.

When he turns off the water, he feels cleaner than he ever has.

That’s it.

It's not about feeling worthy of being with Erwin. Although there is some of that and he doesn't like it one bit, because thinking about it that way makes him vulnerable, a feeling as disgusting as shit.

It's about finding his comfort to enjoy himself with Erwin.

And even that doesn't make…

It's impossible to keep denying it: the interest in sex that Erwin has awakened inside him has turned him into a pig, one who just enjoys himself, someone who gives nothing in return.

A pig who just lies on the bed and lets Erwin give him what he wants for…

No!

Of course, he doesn't blame Erwin for doing it; he couldn't be blamed for awakening all these damned instincts that, because they are incomprehensible to his ignorance, only manage to confuse him.

It's like wanting everything, the whole world in his hands right now. It's that, to want everything, but to feel that some chains hold him back when he tries to give everything as well.

He wants to give everything to Erwin, everything he is, everything he feels; he wants Erwin to give him everything too, his truth, his vulnerability, his body.

His heart.

Then, it's as if the whole world falls silent.

Just thinking about it, his chest stops hurting.

He relaxes at the very idea of having Erwin's heart in his hands, beating the reddest blood, shining like the wildest fire.

He wants Erwin's heart.

He wants to give him his heart, too.

The sound returns to the world when he manages to breathe. An epiphany forcefully dilates his pupils. 

He feels something for Erwin.

Something even larger than life.

"Time, damn it," he whispers in a desperate attempt to escape this epiphany, to leave it behind, to get on with the plan.

They fuck to manage their shit.

This is not about…

He returns to the room and dries as fast as he can before the mirror, his body without clothes shivering because of the cold, but consumed by the heat that burns him inside. When he notices how he shivers, he dries with more violence, so much so, that his skin ends up reddened.

He doesn't want to be a pig.

He doesn't want Erwin to be…

He puts on the pajamas he hardly ever wears, consisting of a t-shirt and pants, both grey, made of fabric too thin for winter.

Still shivering, with some slippers covering his feet, he slowly climbs up the stairs. When he reaches the top floor, when he reaches Erwin's door, he clenches his teeth as he notices his hands shaking once more, a shaking that hasn't gone away, that has only strengthened.

He wants it all, now, immediately.

But he wants more than he should want.

_ "He looks at you in a special way." _

If Lola was right, it means that…

He tries to knock; he doesn't. Why do his hands have to shake like that precisely now? 

Maybe it's because he knows he's doing everything wrong. 

His body is clean, ready, but his consciousness is not. Because he knows that he has to stop being a pig, that he mustn't let Erwin take care of everything.

He has to give something back.

He needs to leave behind everything that is holding him back, those chains that are holding him.

The truth.

That truth that terrifies him so much, that makes him feel dirty, that doesn't allow him to let himself be carried away.

Because if he releases it, Erwin…!

He scowls looking at the bottom of the door, then at the doorknob.

He knows he's hiding things from Erwin, things that are beginning to be difficult to hide. Seeing Lola alone made it even more difficult, also more noticeable. 

He cannot avoid talking to him about everything that fucks up his mind, the thickest of the chains that keep him from moving forward. Especially now, when Erwin has just told him what fucks him up.

Even for this, he shouldn't be a pig. Not for Erwin's body, nor Erwin's heart.

It's not what Erwin deserves, after all. 

Erwin deserves so much more.

But how does he get it? How, with how fucked up he is?

He sighs, unable to knock; he knows how to do it.

The problem is the way to get it requires doing something he has never done before. The only thing in this world that can paralyze him out of fear.

To take a knife, to cut his chest in two, to tear out his heart, to put it on Erwin's hands. 

Throwing on Erwin not his shit, but his blood.

But opening his chest will cause the blood to spill everywhere.

It will make him stain what he loves most in life, something he’s not willing to allow, but needs to allow, but doesn't know how to allow himself without feeling like he's dying in the process. 

Because he doesn't want to stain Erwin.

No, he doesn't want to, not to him. 

.

.

.

He hasn't stopped smiling for a moment. The pain around his mouth lets him know how foreign this feeling is to him.

Acceptance.

He feels an unusual inspiration that relaxes his whole body. It's understanding that even if he has done everything to avoid it, he cannot do it anymore.

To accept what is already undeniable, which allowed him to push out his truth; the inability to go back in time. 

To have lost.

He feels something for Levi, something stunning, something he knows it can never be, not in the position they will be soon, one the commander, the other the captain. He feels something that matters to him, something that is beautiful even though it comes from his heart, and that Levi is not forced to return.

He feels love, one that he never felt. Not for Marie, not for Sam, not for other people from his past. A love that doesn't enter in his chest, for which he would need one more heart, or a stronger one, not like his. 

He feels a love that he never considered being able to experience, that he didn't know that existed, that frightens him, but dazzles him, but fills him with an inspiration that overflows him.

That he doesn't deserve.

But that he wants to allow himself to feel.

That’s it.

He wants Levi to know he can count on him, that he can trust him everything, absolutely everything, but without harassing him. He can no longer do anything against his feelings; he cannot ignore them, deny them, suppress them, or kill them by cutting their necks.

But he can use them to protect Levi.

He's not stupid, he knows Levi is strong both inside and outside. The fact that he's still on his feet despite all the pain that seems to hide behind his eyes is enough proof of his strength. But he wants to protect him, yes.

He wants to be helpful. 

Sacrifices are necessary to achieve impossible things; to give such purpose to the human that he needs to keep alive so that the future commander can go on to fight makes him happy enough.

He can stand that Levi doesn't feel the same, that he sees in him only a comrade, a friend, a commander, a lover.

If he can help him in return…

He will, yes. He’ll sacrifice himself for that.

The human will give all of himself to help Levi.

And he’ll fight.

To create a microcosm in which violence doesn't exist for either of them, he will.

Even if he doesn't deserve it. Mainly because of what is evident.

That Levi does deserve it.

That Levi deserves _everything_. 

Without further ado, he gets naked and takes a shower in his bathroom; he does it with special meticulousness, trying to be as clean as Levi deserves it given his particular disdain for dirt. Afterward, he puts on only his pajama bottoms. He dries his hair when he sits on the bed, anxious, and thinks that he has never had it like this before Levi, without lotion to keep it combed in the way he likes. 

He looks at the room: he only has one candle lit, which he has put on the desk. He takes it to the nightstand just like on New Year, although he stops before placing it on the surface by looking at the imposing window behind the bed.

There is a full moon, and although there are some clouds it's perfectly visible tonight. 

The light that most beautifies Levi is covering the sheets completely.

"It's true," he says as he laughs.

He's indeed a cheesy old man.

He checks possible inconveniences by observing the surroundings from the window; none of the buildings around this one is higher than it, nobody will be able to see them.

He doesn't need to censor this light.

He goes for his bag and looks for the oil he bought on purpose before coming, in case it was given the chance to be alone with Levi. The miracle has happened, he says to himself after leaving the oil and two clean handkerchiefs on the nightstand, before looking at the hour on the clock that used to belong to his father.

Levi should have come fifteen minutes ago.

Startled, Erwin goes to the door fearing the worst, that which his brain whispers to him so easily when it comes to Levi. What if he offended him? What if he doesn't feel like it? What if…?

He opens the door and finds Levi, who, in his pajamas as well, looks at his hands, which are shaking.

"Levi…?"

.

.

.

How can he explain to him that he doesn't do it on purpose? How does he tell him why it's so difficult? How does he make him understand how much the gala, the pigs, the surnames, Lola, have fucked up his mind?

How does he confess how much it fucks up his mind to think about inequality, about this Erwin who gives him everything, about this himself being a pig when he fucks with him?

As _she_ was with…

Enough.

He's fucking overwhelmed! He's not ready for this.

Enough!

But he wants to! He wants to do this! He wants to stop feeling his heart being squeezed.

He doesn't want to be a pig…!

He doesn't want Erwin to be his…

Erwin gets him in and, although it's not strictly necessary, he locks the door, maybe trying to make sure one hundred percent that they're safe.

That is what locked doors are all about.

To save themselves.

To abandon this violence that Levi doesn't know how to drop. 

.

.

.

He embraces Levi without hesitation. It's not only his hands; as on his birthday, all his body is shaking. When he squeezes his back, he realizes that the fabric of his pajamas is very thin; when he brushes his hair to kiss his forehead, he understands that he has taken a bath too, because there is no lotion, but some wetness that smells like soap. 

Everything indicates that he's cold, and he is; all his skin is cold as ice.

But he's not shaking because of that.

He doesn't know why, but he's sure of this, that Levi is shaking for a reason that is not entirely clear.

"I want you to trust me in the way you consider prudent, to decide how much you want to do it," Erwin says holding his conviction in his hands, the sacrifice turned into honor. "You can keep all the secrets you want; as I told you, I'll respect that. You can tell me everything or tell me nothing, you can talk about that woman or Kenny or anyone, ever; but I don't want you to think there is no one. I want you to know that if you need me, you'll have me. That is all I want, Levi…" In the end, delighted by the shaking, by the cold that he wants to push away, by the beauty illuminated by the candle and the moon, he kisses his cheek, then the top of his head. Erwin caresses himself against the hair and smiles at it.

"I trust you, asshole," Levi replies almost voicelessly as Erwin does so.

"Then let me help you."

He knows that his request has more meaning than the one he’s able to confess to Levi; he cannot tell him more than this if he wants to respect him in the way he deserves.

That is all he wants, to help him. Yes, nothing else.

To thank him for giving him a purpose.

To allow himself to be happy at least for a moment in the arms of the only person who has made him feel something like this, this love that is bigger and stronger than a thousand titans and a thousand walls.

A love that would need not one, but a thousand more hearts to be felt completely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much for reading! ♥️
> 
> Sorry for taking more time to update, but I'm not having a good time and these dates are very sensitive for me. I guess I need to be a little more patient with this and everything. 
> 
> About Dolores: some people say that "Olympia", Kuchel's alias, comes from Manet's painting. I wanted to follow that concept and I named the character Lola in honor of another work of that artist, that of Lola de Valencia, which portrays a Spanish dancer.
> 
> One of the things that pushed me to read Eruri fics was to read about Levi's past at the brothel. This is just my interpretation; I tried to write exactly what I wanted to read.
> 
> THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR EVERYTHING. Kudos, bookmarks, comments, sharing. Everything helps, everything gives me a lot of encouragement to continue with this fic, so thank you very much to all those who accompany me in such beautiful ways. 
> 
> ONE THOUSAND THANKS. ♥️♥️♥️


	27. XXVII

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please have a little patience with Levi. He's doing his best. :')
> 
> And also please have a little patience with my English. I'm doing my best, too!
> 
> Thank you very much. ♥

**XXVII**

They remain like that for endless minutes, locked in this room and illuminated by the candle and the moon, Erwin surrounding Levi's shoulders with his arms, Levi still against him, with his left cheek against his heart. They could have gone to bed, kissed, touched each other, more than that, but there is something in this embrace that feels sacred, something that should remain like that, imperturbable.

For Erwin, it's the delight he feels before the details, to feel how Levi's body stops shaking little by little, minute by minute. It's to allow himself to understand that it's his embrace the one that achieves this result.

It's to love being able to do it, to help him. 

But he can do more for him, much more, that is why he asks:

"Do you want to sit down?"

"Where?"

Erwin smiles against Levi's hair.

"Bed," he answers. 

"I came to that, didn't I? Do you want to fuck in bed?"

The question alone makes his erection throb, as it starts to grow inside his pants. Erwin stares at the whole room, feeling how his body enters into that different state of intoxication, the one that comes from arousal, not alcohol.

"If we talk about wanting, I’d want us to do it in every corner of this room," he confesses, finding inspiration in every place, in every nook and cranny.

.

.

.

Levi bites his lip at the sound of those words, waves of heat crushing his crotch.

Is that all?

"Fuck me wherever you want."

"Levi…"

"On the floor, on the desk, against the wall, on the bed." He breathes hard against the other skin as he holds back his urge to kiss it, to nibble it. "Just grab me and fuck me standing up."

The arms squeeze him; Levi feels his head sunk into Erwin's chest, his cheek leaning against the golden hair that covers his skin, everything so soft, so clean.

Clean.

Very clean…

"Fuck me," he whispers. Only as he does so he realizes that he's shaking, again, and that he has almost no voice.

.

.

.

He caresses Levi's right cheek with his fingers, pressing him against him a little more each time; Levi repeats the same in whispers that sound more like he was panting. Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me.

Why he's shaking again? Why, when this beautiful heat comes from hell?

"Are you sure? I don't want you to…"

"Don't start with your good-boy questions. I'm calmer today and I just cleaned myself up. We can fuck as many times as you want, come on. If…"

.

.

.

He shuts up. He doesn't want to be a pig, nor wants Erwin to be the one who is forced to give him pleasure. He doesn't want to turn Erwin into that provider, the person who only gives, who asks for nothing in return.

Because it's unfair. The same thing that happened at the gala, that happens everywhere.

He doesn't want that. No.

He wants Erwin to take his part, to do so despite the guilt. Also despite the rejection, the one he dedicates to himself behind that perfectly carved ice mask, which he sometimes uses to manipulate, sometimes to lead, but never to dream.

He wants him to dream, for Erwin to lose himself inside him, for him to melt over his body, complete, leaving nothing behind, nothing but himself. He wants him to get lost in his dreams while he’s doing it, that is what he wants, that he loses his way while he fucks him, because he still doesn't know what else to do so that Erwin takes his pleasure and carries it away.

To give him pleasure by giving him his body, to give him his body so that he loses himself in his dreams. Fuck, he wants that.

But he knows Erwin, he does it enough to know that yeah, it's wise to promise this:

"I'll let you know if I want to stop."

Erwin kisses his hair, he kisses it a thousand times, one kiss sweeter than the other.

He doesn't want to leave it all to him.

He shouldn't do it.

But if he doesn't tell him the truth, then…

"Thank you," Erwin whispers between kisses.

.

.

.

Listening to him produces two reactions within him. On the one hand, it makes him hard, to the point of having to make an effort not to rub himself against Levi, the only thing that could soothe the tension that makes him so sensitive. On the other hand, it worries him, it does it at the same time as the shaking of the body he’s embracing.

Something gives him a bad feeling, but he doesn't know what it is.

If he wants to find out, he understands, he needs to make one of his gambles.

With Levi, sometimes just asking doesn't give a result. It's better to investigate what is inside his silences. Do it carefully, trusting that he will keep his word in case stopping is imperative.

But he doesn't do anything; Levi also embraces him, finally, and looks at him in the eyes squeezing his waist. Erwin forgets everything as he looks at him, who he is, what he wants, and what he needs. Agitated, he leans toward Levi. They breathe one against the other and take away the little air around them.

The tingling that takes possession of his erection and makes him too conscious of it is the one that decides for him by forcing him to kiss Levi on the lips. 

The kiss begins slowly, but not without passion; this is the protagonist of all their actions. The fact is that Levi is too passionate, perhaps even more than he would be able to understand; he's the usual storm, although today this one is especially wild. 

Vulnerable, too.

Moaning against his mouth, his breath intermingles with Levi's; with an unusual power of seduction, Levi's lips slide down his jaw, wet, until they reach his neck. They kiss, nibble while the hands pull his neck, while the nose breathes hard against his skin. The simple sound that produces sinks Erwin into a prison of steam that overwhelms him, that turns him on, that consumes him as if his body was water, and Levi was not a storm, but a pyre of fire.

Hell, finally.

Chills go up and down through his skin, tingling intensifying around his cock. He bites his lower lip when he perceives Levi's lips on his left nipple. He looks at him, looks at his pink tongue caressing the nipple, the chest, the golden hair that covers it, against which Levi rubs his cheeks like a cat looking for warmth, purring. Later, he goes down, does the same against his navel, against every muscle and every scar, until falling on his knees before him.

Erwin holds all the air that he's able to breathe before the suggestive image of Levi kneeling like that.

The beautiful hands pull down all his clothes and force his feet to remove them from his body. Naked, Erwin gasps uncontrollably, asking himself for sanity.

Begging himself not to pull the black hair and ask Levi to give him pleasure with his mouth.

Levi looks at his cock with a fascination that calls his attention, which is completely contradicted by the shaking that, in front of the erection, only seems to be accentuated.

"I'm going to learn to suck you off, you bastard," Levi tells him in the same tone with which he gives him his reports. He's rough when he says it, but no stoicism within him manages to hide the fascination that colors his eyes. "I’ll suck you off whenever I find you awake in your office so that you can go to sleep and stop working at once."

The promise alone makes Erwin's erection twitch. How inevitable to be ashamed of reacting like this to simple words that are nothing more than that, promises of something that may or may not happen someday.

"I'd love to…" he admits in a hoarse voice.

Listening to him makes Levi squeeze his legs, maybe looking for some kind of friction in his erection, which is already noticeable under his thin pajamas.

Why are they holding back so much?

Levi's pupils get lost in his cock again. His mouth is half-open, his eyes are half-closed, and an obscene blush covers his cheeks. Shaking more and more, Levi's mouth approaches the right side of his erection, while, on the other side, he rests a hand on it, to place it. Erwin feels that the floor is wobbling under him when Levi kisses his skin slowly, carefully, once, twice.

The hand is shaking against him. 

Why?

Why does it shake if nothing in the eyes shines but fascination?

"Levi…"

Upon hearing his name, Levi caresses his cock with the lips, then with the tip of his tongue. The moisture left behind by each caress, when it makes contact with his messy breath, unleashes electric flows that travel along Erwin's spine and disperse throughout his body. A thousand words get stuck in his throat, a thousand different sounds.

He restrains himself from saying it, from saying something like _suck me off_ , a vocabulary to which he's not related, but whose brutality would be perfect for this scene.

But Levi is shaking more and more.

He sees him standing up. Without any shame, he sees him undress. Then he sees him throw each garment to either side of the room. When he's as naked as he is, Levi walks backward. When he reaches the bed, he sits on it and opens his legs; between them, his cock is hard. The image has explicit intentions and tries to be seductive; the shaking and evident inexperience endow it with a tenderness that makes his heart heavy.

Smiling due to this love that suffocates him with words that would never do justice to this image, Erwin walks toward him. 

.

.

.

He wants more. He wants enough knowledge to tear out screams from this huge blondie with childish eyes; he wants to quench the thirst that this imposing body gives him; he wants to fuck in every fucking corner of this room, to do it brutally, to scream and shout while Erwin moans without air, without voice, a hoarse sound more animal than human crashing against the walls, against his eardrums addicted to his pleasure; he wants the heat of their bodies to fog up the glasses of the window behind the bed.

He wants Erwin's pleasure to cross the sky - that's what he wants.

Just let him fuck him and enjoy it, that and nothing else!

But his hands are shaking, they are shaking a lot, maybe more than he thinks.

Why it cannot be like when he's out there? He has never told anyone, but killing titans is not a difficult thing for him. It's as if he always understood how to do it; his instinct has all the necessary information to kill them without being too difficult. How good it would be for him to have the same instinct for this, to fuck and to tear out screams and…

He doesn't want to be a pig.

If he doesn't want to be one, he has to let Erwin fuck him.

Because then Erwin can get something in return.

Because that is the only way Levi knows he can be _useful_ to his pleasure.

He squeezes the blanket that is under him with his fingers, the image of Erwin walking towards him a kind of dream in which one second is like a thousand. Why does he have to think about that now? Why thinking about pigs, if Erwin…?

"Levi, listen…"

"What?"

"You're shaking a lot."

"It’s cold."

"Is that the only reason you're shaking?"

Is that all?

"I may not be so young, but it annoys me to behave like a brat who has just graduated from the Training Corps."

Erwin chuckles. Listening to him doing it never fails to relax him.

But he doesn't want to be a…

"Are you going to stand there? Come on, do something about this."

"It's just that the sh…"

"Fuck, Erwin."

Roughly, Levi holds one of his hands to shorten the distance between them. Without making the least effort, since manipulating Erwin is as easy as cutting a nape, he pushes him towards him. Erwin falls on top of him in the middle of the bed; Levi grabs his waist between his legs, but far from stopping there, seduced by how comforting this weight is all over him, he kisses him, squeezes him, rolls over him until he sits on his hips. 

.

.

.

Erwin moans as if Levi had just penetrated him. This is how suggestive it’s to feel that someone can overcome him in strength, something to which, due to his size, he's not used to.

It's the first time someone does it this way.

To him, with a reputation of being ruthless.

How much it arouses him that Levi is strong enough to dominate him completely. 

"Did you like that? You're not used to being handled like a rag doll, are you?"

As if he could read his eyes.

He does it, he knows how to do it.

"No, I'm not used to this."

"And you like it…"

"I…" Chill, shudder, gasp, all for receiving a caress from one of Levi's fingers traveling from his navel to his neck. "I love it."

"Will you make me learn how to put it in you?"

Another shudder, one so strong it's as if it was cutting his skin. 

"Yes."

"Even if it looks ridiculous?"

"It won't look ridiculous."

"It's like a cat trying to fuck a horse."

"You're exaggerating."

"You'll have to contort yourself to make it work, I can't think of how you intend me to get to your hole."

Erwin drops his head back, and laughs, and doesn't understand how there is anything outside this room and this intimacy. It's so easy, always.

"How prejudiced you are," he answers laughing. 

"Am I? Look at that chubby ass of yours; look at those one hundred pounds of thigh on each leg. How do you think I can…?"

Erwin loses all control over himself as he cracks up. This is nuts, laughing like this when he's naked, with an erection, so ready for something that, for him, is very serious.

Because giving pleasure to Levi is extremely serious for him.

Or maybe he's being prejudiced too. Maybe, sex can be this too, laughs, joy, not just doing things perfectly.

Not only Levi's pleasure but also his. Their pleasure, in short, one hundred percent balanced.

A perfect give and take that can be everything they need, from joy to ecstasy, at the same time, in the same way.

All of it.

He smiles at Levi's serious face. He pulls him by the hand, embraces him, rolls with him on the bed. He releases him, and as he kneels between his legs, which are entirely open before him, caresses his thighs with the palms of his hands, up and down. Looking at Levi's face, he certainly looks affected by what is happening.

He starts to relax, then.

"Do you like it too?" Erwin asks, smiling.

.

.

.

Levi holds his breath when a chill, which is more like a lightning bolt, runs down his whole back, all because of the caresses he receives, because of the position he is in.

"What do you mean?" he asks without understanding. 

Or yeah, he understands. He understands that Erwin is asking him what he likes and if what he’s doing pleases him, but no, he still cannot recognize how much it likes him, to what extent everything coming from Erwin turns him on.

Erwin himself, complete.

"That I can move you easily."

Another electric chill, one that is more like a lit match caressing his back, scraping it until it opens his skin.

"N-Not bad…" he admits, looking at the darkest corner of the room.

What else does he like?

Erwin continues, caresses his thighs with his palms wide open over his skin. It's as if he masturbates his legs when he goes up, down, up. How small he feels inside these hands, how his hair stands up on each limb.

This too.

And what else?

Erwin's hands, which seem to grow when they touch him, become as big as a titan's hand, climb the sides of his body and hold his waist. Lying down on him, Erwin kisses him on the lips as he rocks himself against him. He causes friction between the two of them as he thrusts against his hip.

The chill is no longer a caress; it's like a burning knife penetrating his skin. 

Levi groans unconsciously, unable to restrain himself, as he kisses Erwin's mouth without having any idea what the hell he's doing.

Fuck.

This too, yeah. This also turns him on, the fact that Erwin is not being shy, that he’s taking control, that he allows himself to be overcome but also that he overcomes him, that he allows himself to be on each side, of the one who receives, of the one who gives.

Erwin, complete. Yeah. 

Everything related to Erwin turns him on.

"Fuck me…" he asks as he releases his lips to recover at least a little of all the air he has lost.

But he doesn't get it back; Erwin insists with his thrusts.

.

.

.

He cannot think, he cannot feel around himself the nervousness he usually feels at headquarters. To be alone is also a relief, to be able to disconnect like this, to get out of control like that, to become that person that only wants this, lust, passion, and the love that Levi will never have to requite.

"Does it turn you on that I take control?"

"And that you jerk off my thighs. Fuck, Erwin. Just…" They look into each other's eyes as they speed up at the same time. Erwin is seduced by everything, the paleness of the skin in contrast with each scar, the silvery look illuminated by the candle and the moon, the friction between their legs. Everything seduces him. Everything turns him on. "Fuck me now… "

What savagery triggers this plea. He wants to feel vulnerable, but most of all he feels in control of his pleasure. This is how comfortable and happy with himself Levi makes him feel.

He's already getting emotional; it's not the time for that. To do things right, he needs balance. 

It's all about…

Levi kisses him and takes his breath away again.

"Fuck me."

The hip thrusts him.

"Levi…"

It thrusts him more.

"Fuck me. It's what you want, it's what your fucking dick wants…"

It thrusts him with that element that constitutes Levi.

Violence.

Erwin drowns a scream as he responds to Levi's urgent kiss. Levi's arms surround his neck; his torso pushes towards him and their bodies roll on the bed once more.

Erwin falls on the sheets with Levi on top of him, Levi moving against his open legs, Levi shaking between grunts that escape from his mouth and end up on his wet lips. Erwin lets himself be done, overwhelmed by the loneliness they share, by the nakedness, by the vehemence of the hips.

Something is wrong. 

He stops him by holding Levi by the cheeks. He looks at him with evident frustration.

"What the fuck are you…?"

With his right hand, Erwin goes down his body. He goes to the neck, continues up to the shoulder, goes down the arm, reaches Levi's left hand.

It's cold.

He's shaking more than ever, with an exaggerated insistence.

It's enough evidence.

For some reason he still doesn't understand completely, Levi is nervous and doesn't know how to control it. He only knows how to react on the defensive, as if he was outside the walls, not in bed with him, in this safe space that they have decided to be for each other.

This intimacy is in pursuit of pleasure, to relieve stress. Erwin accepts it even though it’s more for him.

But he doesn't accept that Levi enjoys all this from the land of violence.

.

.

.

But he doesn't know how to do it any other way. That is why, when Levi allows himself to relax, he lets himself be carried away by that path that frightens him in the innermost depths of his being, and by being frightened is that he quickens more, and by demanding himself to move forward is that he shakes, and by not telling the truth is that those chains, when he reaches the limit, stop him.

When he cannot move any further, all that is left is to react as he's doing right now, speeding up all over Erwin's body, rubbing against him with rudeness.

Trapped in that land incompatible with the place he's in, condemned to the violence that represents everything he believes in.

The only thing he knows. 

.

.

.

They don’t need to speak, so Erwin doesn't answer; he puts Levi to his left, opens the bed, covers them both, kisses him on one eyebrow, then on one cheek.

"Erwin…" Levi grunts, perhaps frustrated by the softness and slowness with which Erwin caresses him with his lips, guided by beauty and sensations. "Why the fuck not…?"

Inspired, as it always happens to him with Levi, he decides that he has enough time to do things in a certain way. 

This is something that, from time to time, he allows himself to do. Although he usually does it as a way to satisfy himself enough to not need it for months.

A little torture; this will be his gamble. From the answer he can get from Levi he will try to understand how to help him in the right way. 

He kisses the corner of his lips, sticks his lips there, and delights at the persistent shaking of Levi's body, who looks at him and exudes an immeasurable tension.

"Er…" A gasp doesn't let him keep on talking; Erwin has held his cock and caresses its moistened tip with his right thumb, which he moves in perfectly calculated circles. "What the fuck…"

"Shhh…" Erwin whispers against his lips.

He barely masturbates, as if he doesn't feel like it; he tries to calculate every movement to the fullest. Meanwhile, with his left arm, he surrounds Levi's shoulders. He stares at him while moving his hand between his legs.

"Erw…"

"Shhh…"

Levi is agitated on the bed, tension, and uncertainty covering his pupils. 

"Don't shut me up, asshole."

"You'll thank me for this, I promise…" Erwin says it with the politest tone he has, with the face with which he looks at Mitras' rich men, in a state of alert behind a measured, prudent, calm gesture. This turns him on a lot, more than what he thought possible in the past; Levi drives him crazy, turns him into an addict, sucks all his energy just by looking at him in the eyes, but at the same time he returns it to him as something better.

It's wonderful.

He masturbates more slowly, touches one side, another, the base, the tip. Levi clenches his teeth.

"Hurry up."

Erwin leaves a kiss on his lips and just says no with his head. 

"Enjoy yourself."

Moving his hand, he looks at Levi's face, stressed rubbing the inner side of his elbow with the back of his head. He resists, clenches his teeth again, tries not to give in; he fights. Levi struggles not to give in, as if something is preventing him to do so, something powerful, almost invincible.

What is it?

.

.

.

The fucking chain, that is.

He doesn't want Erwin to do everything.

He has to do something, too.

"Damn it…"

He cannot allow this again! This, to be like this, to be…

But how does he achieve this with so much shit inside him?

.

.

.

Eventually, the caresses, slow but intense, encourage him enough: Levi moans as he closes his eyes. He rests his head on Erwin's arm, and he shakes, and he whimpers.

This is the moment. When Levi whimpers, it means that he has given up.

That he no longer wants to fight. 

That he's shaking not because of nervousness, but because of anticipation.

Erwin masturbates him very slowly without knowing how much time passes. He devotes every second to admire the mutations of Levi's face, to recognize every gesture, to learn how to give him pleasure in the right way. As if the face was a book and this book told him all truths that he longed so much to know. 

Levi whimpers more; Erwin kisses his forehead once and a thousand times.

"I love to see you like this…" Levi whimpers louder; Erwin increases the speed of his hand, though only for a moment. "That is it, leave everything to me. You just enjoy yourself."

Levi throws his head back. He loses his breath, his chest rises and falls quickly while his cheeks turn red and his lips dry. Erwin runs the sheets and looks at his hand and the swollen, wet cock trapped inside of it. He uses the moisture from the tip, spreads it all over the erection, and strokes it with circular movements of his wrist. As the speed increases more and more and more, it's as if the air is being pulled out of the room. Levi struggles to breathe in an identical way as Erwin himself does.

When Levi starts to shake too much, Erwin slows down his hand once more. 

"Hurry up!"

"The more you ask me, the less I’ll do it."

"Son of a bitch…"

"You'll thank me for it…"

He returns to the initial, lazy pace, which is more provocation than masturbation.

Levi whimpers as if he was about to come.

"It’s not fair…!"

"What do you mean, Levi…?" 

The hand increases the speed only to reduce it again a few seconds later.

Levi, suffocated, looks for enough air to talk. He doesn't find it, as his raspy whispering shows:

"You never… ask me for anything in return…"

Erwin considers stopping; he doesn't. He's interested in knowing how far they will go, trusting that Levi will stop him if it’s necessary. 

Levi squirms when all muscles of his body seem to tense at the same time. He has released his legs from the sheets; with his knees well bent, he squeezes the blanket under him with his toes. He presses there with extraordinary strength, also with his hands holding the pillow, both arms bent upward, as tensed as the rest of him.

Erwin makes only one movement; he bobs Levi's cock only once. 

Levi moans when he almost jumps on the bed.

"Never…!" he repeats; his voice is reduced to sounds that he makes with his broken breath, "you never ask me for anything…"

Erwin, more concentrated than ever, repeats the previous movement; Levi doesn't moan.

He screams.

Feeling how his erection becomes completely hard, dazed by a thousand images that invade his mind and turn on perversions he didn't know he had, all of them inspired by the magnificent image of this Levi on the verge of pleasure, Erwin masturbates intensely, but slowly; he masturbates with fast, sudden movements, but at a slow, irregular pace.

He looks at Levi's face as he bobs once, twice, three times; the first time, his eyelids clench and let tears fall while a whimper escapes from his mouth; the second time, his closed eyelids rub against his forearm with his teeth clenched and his lips parted; the third time, his mouth opens completely and shows the glimpse of a beautiful smile that only lasts a moment.

Erwin bobs three more times; between whimpers that he no longer holds, a drop of sweat on his forehead and one of saliva on the left corner of his lips, Levi smiles and tears. 

Three more times, abrupt, strong, and merciless.

Levi comes on his belly shouting at the top of his lungs, squeezing what his fingers and toes have at hand with a strength that would be able to kill anyone, crying on the skin of his forearm tensed by the arousal that beats between his legs. Levi comes without air, without consciousness, and after some spasms that make his body twist on the bed, he lets the nape fall on the inner side of his elbow.

The frown denotes pain, but it's not the case.

The smile, though sober, denotes the highest happiness Erwin has ever seen.

The image is of a beauty that only makes him want to cry.

He dries his hand with one of the handkerchiefs he left on the nightstand, trying not to touch Levi with the remains of semen; he lays Levi's head on the pillow with a delicacy that is out of place before someone so strong, but that he inevitably wants to express simply because of who he is.

Enraptured, he contemplates the beauty of the white chest sculpted to the smallest detail by the training going up and down, in peace. 

He's perfect.

And he’s unworthy.

He tries not to get lost in guilt by cleaning Levi's cock and belly, devoted to the spotless neatness of this wonderful being, to keep it intact. He sees him startled two or three times when he touches his cock and testicles. 

Only when he drops the handkerchief on the floor, he hears his voice again.

"Why don't you use me…?"

He looks at Levi: he's devastated. The tears shed during pleasure have dried up, the saliva and sweat too. With dilated pupils and a gesture identical to that of a helpless child, Levi stares at him. Without words in his throat, Erwin remains silent like this, with the silver blades stuck in his pupils.

Shocked, he doesn't know what to say.

He lies down. With the same delicacy as before, he lies Levi down on his chest. He embraces him when he feels him shaking.

As he does so, he discovers that he's shaking, too.

"What do you mean by that?" he asks calmly, ready to listen to whatever Levi has to say.

Because it's true, maybe this is what Levi needs, to be pushed a little bit, to be urged to speak. 

Levi doesn't hug him, but he doesn't reject the position they are in either, with Erwin's arms around him. Erwin feels his breath on his skin, so much that it makes him shiver when it touches a nipple. He sighs for the calm he feels but remains alert for what he doesn't understand.

That which he wants to understand.

"What do I mean? It's obvious."

"I'm very sorry I don't understand it, then." Erwin strokes his shoulder; Levi sinks deeper into his chest. "I want to be helpful, Levi. If I'm making a mistake, I want to fix it."

"You're not making a mistake."

"Do you think so?"

"Yeah, cheesy old man. It's just…" 

Levi's body tenses between his arms; Erwin perceives it with an almost sickly detail, every muscle rigid for the wrong reasons, not for anticipation, but nervousness.

"If you don't want to say it…"

"It's not that I don't want to, Erwin. It's that it's… It's obvious!"

Interesting. Soon, Erwin feels quite confident.

Somehow, he knows that he's learning to read Levi even in these situations, those of this intimacy that still seems difficult for him.

If it's obvious for Levi, it means that Levi is analyzing it from his own experience. If he talks about being used, it means that, in his mind, he has an overwhelming prejudice installed, one so big and so invincible that it's only achieving this, stopping him.

Not allowing Levi to express it. 

Not allowing him to enjoy this intimacy the way he wants to. 

"All right. Then say it how you can so we can try to talk about it if you want to."

.

.

.

Listening to his heart beating under his face, shivering from a cold that doesn't exist in this room in which so much has just happened, feeling cleaner than even after a bath, Levi understands.

He feels clean. Erwin makes him feel clean. 

Which means he makes him feel safe.

Which means that…

"Shit."

Mentally humming the song that reminds him this is real, he lets go of Erwin and sits on the bed. Turning his back on him, looking at his hands that are shaking from the truth that he needs to trust to move forward, he vomits his heart out with the only possible phrase:

"Mom was a prostitute."

And there is no point in hiding it any longer, not from Erwin.

Not from the person who has given him back what he thought was lost forever.

A room without violence. Clean, healthy. 

Happy.

As well as the most transcendental love that a human being can feel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading. ♥️
> 
> From here on I'm going to take a little longer with the updates: I'm a little delayed.
> 
> I hope you like everything that follows. From the bottom of my heart, I hope so. The next chapter was very hard for me, it hurt me a lot to write it, but please know that I put a lot of love into every word.
> 
> Thank you very much for staying with me. It means a lot to me.
> 
> ♥️♥️♥️


	28. XXVIII

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains descriptions of sensitive images. Mentions of prostitution, death, social injustice, attempted rape, drugs, crime, extreme poverty; many difficult things seen through the eyes of a child. Please proceed with caution (or not) if any of these topics are sensitive to you.
> 
> Thank you. ♥️

**XXVIII**

The sentence is like a blade cutting the back of his neck in two. That is how brutal it is.

_”Mom was a prostitute.”_

It's impossible to define what he feels when he hears his words. It's all at once, it's nothing itself.

It's unbearable.

Erwin holds back the air without realizing it. The room is almost dark; the light of the candle, intermingled with that of the moon, hits the skin on Levi's back with almost unbelievable grace. 

He looks at the scars that don't ruin the skin but beautify it, noticing the slight shaking of the body. When he says what he says, however, at the precise moment when Levi embraces his legs against his chest without turning toward him even for an instant, the shaking stops. The body moves at the pace of Levi's breath, which is calm despite the tension he shows, one that holds him and refuses to let him go, that squeezes him, that keeps him on guard.

This naked back, illuminated by this candle and this moon, the beautifying scars, the soft breathing while two arms embrace two legs.

He's never going to forget this image.

It's the image related to Levi that he'll treasure more fondly.

Erwin releases the air, at last. He raises a hand, but doesn't touch the back; he just admires it with his glassy eyes. He has too much to analyze; that sentence is so devastating that it shoots a thousand ideas into the air, into thousands of directions. It terrifies him as much as it moves him to think how far that concept can go; it frightens him as the deepest darkness, which for him will always be tied to ignorance.

He must wait; he has to be patient.

If he wants to be helpful, he must do it. 

"I'm listening." That is the only thing he dares to say.

Levi embraces himself more tightly.

"Mom…" he whispers in a voice affected by the feelings that fill him. 

Due to the notorious absence of stoicism, a change in his attitude is noticeable. Levi is sober when he shows himself moved, however; it's because of the sobriety that his emotion impacts twice as much.

It's because of how unusual it is that it acquires an almost sacred, untouchable value. 

"Mom…" he repeats, and how obvious how much he struggles, and what admiration Erwin feels for his effort. 

Levi squeezes his legs very hard; he doesn't stop consequently.

"Mom was young… when she arrived at the brothel, hardly a woman." Only at the end of that sentence, his voice acquires enough conviction to allow itself what Levi needs, to speak out, something he does in whispers, speaking more slowly than usual. "She ended up in the Underground for a reason I never knew, I guess because she argued with her family."

Erwin smiles, dazzled by everything he notices in the lacerating sobriety. Levi is like a child who has barely learned to read; he has that slowness, those pauses, he also denotes an unusual tenderness. 

He's very, very sweet.

"Mom worked there for a few years," he continues, "in that brothel that was very close to the stairs that led to the outside, under the main exit to Mitras. Because of its location, the brothel was frequented by pigs from below and also by pigs from above, those who will always be glad to be unfaithful far away from their wives of good surname; everything depended on how much money they put on the table, most of it for the owner, a pinch of it for the prostitutes. 

"One day, Mom got pregnant by a pig that perhaps wasn't very tall even though she, as well as her co-workers, did everything not to have brats. Despite her situation, she decided to keep the child.

"Hi.

"We lived in the room she had in the brothel. She always kept it clean. We didn't have much, but she kept everything clean. Her clothes, my clothes, the faded curtains on the little window that faced the hallway; everything was clean. I used to sleep with her; because the room was so cold, Mom pressed me against her body every night. She always smelled of soap; she never smelled of her clients, nor sex. That smell was different from the rest of the brothel, it relieved me.

"I think it relieved her too, or so I used to think. Maybe that is why she rubbed her skin until it was red when she took a bath.

"Because she needed it. 

"My first memories are playing with the other prostitutes while Mom was working. They gave me cookies, told me stories; I didn't pay much attention to them, I think. They always tried to talk and laugh loudly while they were with me, so they would cover up the sounds coming from the other rooms. Of course, I didn't understand the nature of those sounds I heard anyway; I just remember that they made me very nervous.

"I hated them.

"Our room was located on the third floor of that filthy brothel. Let's just say it was the floor of the most exclusive prostitutes. There were a couple of Asian women there, for example, as well as women with very distinctive features. The most exotic women were generally there.

"Mom was just like me. I'm very much like her, although she had slightly lighter hair and darker eyes, plus she was a little taller than I am now. I don't know what the fuck was so exotic about her, but it seems my features look _good_ on a woman because her co-workers used to say that Mom was the most beautiful of all of them.

"She was.

"When I stopped being a baby that pooped and nothing else and started to reason and walk on my own feet, Mom started to keep a regular clientele certain days a week, at least whenever she could; she worked a little less, and since she was one of the exclusives, she was paid a little better than the rest.

"She took advantage of that to be with me. She used to tell me things about the outside world, to talk to me about a grandpa she had who used to take her for walks in the snow when she was a child, to explain to me how to keep everything clean, to make me help her to clean, to hug me. 

"Mom used to hug me a lot, she was very affectionate. I was kind of quiet, I guess, but it was nice to be with her. 

"She was a good mom.

"That is how we spent our days, cleaning, talking, meeting with her co-workers, playing the same three stupid games that bored us very quickly. We hardly ever left the brothel, only on very weird occasions. I guess Mom didn't like to go out or was worried about criminals; I have no idea why we didn't go out. I just know that we didn't, we rarely did.

"Among her co-workers on the third floor, there was one who served as a mentor for the younger ones. Her name was Lola. She was the most expensive of all the prostitutes. She was very cultured too. Apparently, she had ended up in that brothel because her husband was a drunkard millionaire and she had to run away so as not to endure his punishment any longer; we almost always heard shitty stories among the prostitutes. But Lola seemed to be made of iron, nothing hurt her, nobody heard her cry as sometimes we did hear others, those who worked there only because they didn't want to fucking starve.

"Lola is the woman you saw today, Dolores, that pig's wife. She left the brothel shortly before I left, when a client, precisely today's pig, asked her to marry him. Of course, Lola agreed to leave as soon as the opportunity presented itself.

"When Mom worked all night on Saturdays, I stayed over with Lola. Actually, she was the one who taught me how to read and write; she was that volunteer I told you about. Then, in the early morning, Mom used to come and get me. We used to spend Sundays reading a book she had hidden under her bed. We read ourselves to sleep for the rest of the day.

"Sometimes the cold was so unbearable that neither of us could sleep. Mom always started singing the same song to me. She sang very well. She also told me stories about knights and queens. They seemed to like her very much. I think she was a romantic, like you. Luckily, she stopped when I got a little older, at the same time that I started to understand a little better what was happening around me. 

"I don't even know very well when it happened; I had no friends, I was the only brat alive in the brothel and Mom never talked to me about it (Lola did, although very cautiously and always behind Mom's back), but yeah, I started to understand what was going on. 

"The only thing I remember is that I didn't like to understand it one bit. 

"Sometimes I used to pretend to sleep so Mom could rest; I've had insomnia since I was a little brat, it's hard for me to sleep, even more so when I'm fucking freezing. She began to cry trying not to make too much noise.

"She cried every night. Every single one.

"While from the other rooms you could hear all kinds of moaning that I had too naturalized in my head even though they made me feel so nervous, she was crying in a low voice, as if there were only the two of us…

"I wasn't the nicest of brats, but I tried to help her with everything. We lived in a filthy, paper-walled brothel that was the supreme filth of the Underground, but I tried to get Mom to smile as much as possible. 

"I guess I liked seeing her like that. It made all a little easier as I grew up. Not seeing her crying was something that made things easier. 

"But one day it all went to hell.

"The prostitutes on the third floor began to die. Some pig gave them some very contagious shit. Every so often, a prostitute used to get sick and never leave her room again, even though they all did everything to take care of their health. But it was weird, much more extreme: one by one, they all started to die.

"Mom told me to stay calm, that we'd be fine as long as we didn't leave the room and kept it clean. 

"She stopped working almost completely from that moment on, she told me that if we stayed clean we'd be safe, that being clean was very important; that is why she cleaned so much, the room, me and herself, before and always. 

"She started cleaning me all the time, literally every minute that went by; she used up almost all the soap on me, rubbing me until my skin was red like hers in the past. I tried to do the same thing, rubbing her too, but she told me no, that she’d be fine, that I shouldn't worry.

"It didn't work.

"One morning when I woke up, Mom was cold. She was sleepy, sometimes I had trouble waking her up, so I thought for sure it was nothing bad.

"But she didn't wake up.

"I shook her, talked to her, yelled at her, cried at her. I even cried, damn it…

"She never woke up."

And only then Levi shuts up. In front of Erwin's eyes, the back is the same one he has looked at throughout the story, but at the same time, it's a different back, one illuminated by the brightest sun.

A back that shows absolutely everything, that is truly naked, both visually and conceptually. 

On the back, he swears that each scar is a piece of the puzzle that each word has helped to put together. Together on Levi's pale skin, the pieces tell the whole story, they verify everything that has come out of his mouth.

He cleans due to trauma.

He has insomnia due to trauma.

He's disgusted by sex due to trauma.

But he's not who he is because of those traumas; he's who he is because he has survived so many misfortunes even and despite them.

Levi is a survivor.

Erwin sits behind him. He pulls one of the blankets that cover the bed, puts it on his shoulders, and wraps his arms around Levi, not looking at him, giving him his space despite giving him, at the same time, his warmth. The blanket covers them completely. Thus, their bodies form a single shadow on the wall. 

Levi stays still. 

"I was 12," he continues while Erwin rubs him with his open hands to warm his skin. "I felt an absurd amount of strength exploding inside me as I shook her; it was as if frustration increased it every second. That strength didn't help me to wake her up, and yet I never stopped feeling it. I feel it right now.

"But this strength could never do a fucking thing."

Erwin strokes Levi's naked skin more emphatically. It's unfair. To think that the strongest person who inhabits these walls has never found his strength useful…

The fact that not even by it he has managed to save his mother and friends…

He breathes hard against Levi's hair, who shakes in his arms when a chill runs through his spine.

"I sat aside and waited," he says quietly; in the voice, it's evident that he contains tears perhaps without realizing that he's doing so; it's how honest that ignorance is what breaks Erwin's heart. "I was too cold, I only had a Mom's nightgown for clean clothes, there was no food, no one was left on the third floor, no one knew I was still alive.”

"You were waiting for death," Erwin whispers.

Levi doesn't respond, not immediately, until he nods.

It's as if Erwin's neck was cut; as if it was cut a thousand times. That mere movement is like losing his head.

It hurts too much. 

"I don't know how many days went by and I don't know why I didn't die too; I just felt this strength, but it didn't help me to move, it didn't make me want to. I don't know how many days I looked at my knees while I smelled that damn smell, while Mom's face changed, while I hugged my legs and waited."

As he's doing right now, Erwin thinks.

As he was doing the night of his birthday. 

He holds his breath once more when he realizes how much sense has all that in Levi seems so mysterious, even the tiniest thing, like the posture he adopts when he's distressed.

He hugs his legs due to trauma, and perhaps that was the memory that was attacking him on his birthday, which he chose to leave behind when they shared an intimate moment for the first time.

The snow, the cold, he hugging his legs during the early morning of his birthday. Levi humming that song.

 _"I want to stop thinking about_ it _!"_

Perhaps he was thinking about her.

Her…

"Until a guy came and took me with him."

A guy? Not a pig?

"Who?"

"Kenny The Ripper," Levi says.

 _The Ripper_? Hearing the name and that way to call him in the same sentence helps Erwin corroborate his suspicions.

Yes, the name seems familiar to him.

He didn't hear that name from Levi. No, it was before. He heard it in the past, years ago. From someone who he cares about. From someone who he doesn't see quite often. From someone with which he has differences…

Nile?

Yes, Nile.

It was something about the Military Police. Something about some crimes. Something about serious unsolved crimes.

Something about…

"The serial killer…?" he asks breathlessly.

Levi nods with an almost imperceptible nod.

After this mind map that he has made to remember, Erwin hears Nile's voice one night two years ago during a trip he made on a free weekend, during a dinner with him and Marie, who had just had her first child. Nile was talking to him about criminals whom the Military Police never found.

_"Kenny The Ripper is an urban legend, for some, but there are many of us who believe he existed: he killed dozens of members of the Military Police years ago. No one ever caught him. Those things keep me awake!"_

Erwin thought, as he listened to Nile, what used to keep him awake. Thinking about titans, how they move, where they appear, how to defeat them. 

And now…

If there is something about Levi that still intrigues him -even if he tries to stop looking for a coherent explanation- it's how he was able to learn on his own how to use the three-dimensional maneuvering equipment. He has never asked him this question, so maybe it wouldn't be a bad idea to do it right now when the trust between them has reached this point of no return. It's obvious he never received military training, and neither learned from Church or Magnolia, who, judging by their style, learned from him.

It didn't seem unreasonable to him to think that someone had trained him, that if he could use his talent that way it was because someone had taught him.

So, he learned from another person. 

He learned from a legend.

From one that still lives, if the guy Levi saw on the street was him.

"Did he…?"

He doesn't get to ask; Levi answers automatically:

"He gave me a knife and taught me how to use it, explained to me how to defend myself, how to fight, how to survive."

At the age of 12, Erwin remembers.

At 12 years old, a child perhaps undernourished after days seated next to a bo…

He moves his face away from Levi's hair, strives to regulate his breathing, to not make a sound by controlling the anguish that tears his throat.

It's not fair.

It's not.

He has been in the military for years; he has heard all kinds of life stories. Many of his closest comrades have been through so much…

He has always cared about listening. First, because he considers it essential in terms of forging good leadership qualities; on the human side, even though he hasn't talked about himself for years, he enjoys listening to others, hearing those stories about why they decided to be part of the spear with which humanity is trying to keep this fight.

But nothing prepared him for this. 

He looks at the back of Levi's neck; his body shakes once again. He kisses the nape with lips as shaky as Levi, and this one inhales deeply.

"Don't tell me that you feel bad about it, that you're sorry, that it hurts you. Don't do that."

Anguish squeezes his throat more and more, it does it with ghostly hands. It's as usual, the same old story, but it's different. Anguish comes from Levi and has more strength than his; it squeezes using another kind of talent.

He feels everything as if he was Levi; as if Levi's heart was beating inside his body, right beside his own, or inside, right in the middle of it.

It's the cruelest and more despicable life story he has ever heard. It is, and the fact that it belongs to Levi plunges him into a deep disappointment directed towards the world, the society that lives inside the walls, all those who allow such stories to happen every day, every hour.

"I won't," he promises.

The two parts of the shadow that it looks like a ghost on the wall remain under the blanket. Erwin leaves sporadic kisses on the back of Levi's neck, who shivers beautifully at every touch.

He won't tell him, but yes, he's sorry.

However, having listened to this story has changed the image of Levi that he can contemplate. Levi has turned into something much huger, powerful, worthy of admiration.

Because he's a survivor, yes.

Even though he lost the will to…

He swallows to hold back another sob; a tear holds up one of his eyelids.

Levi wanted to give up. 

Of all the details, that is the one it hurts him the most, to imagine him in a corner of a dirty and abandoned room, alone…

Alone.

Next to the vestiges of what he loved most in life.

He squeezes his eyes shut as he kisses the back of the neck once more; how small he feels next to this story; how tiny the world has become. 

It scares him not to be worthy of Levi.

Because no one could ever be worthy of so much.

Thinking about it in this way relaxes him almost in a twisted way. Neither he nor anyone else will ever be worthy of Levi. Not all those people who admire him out there, not all the pigs who shook his hand, not even his comrades or himself.

No one is worthy of Levi.

Levi is that human being whom he _never_ wants to disappoint.

"One day, Kenny left. I waited for him, but he didn't come back. I was 13; the guy Kenny was renting a room in a filthy hostel kicked me out."

"You lived on the street…"

"For the next four years, yeah."

Erwin clenches his teeth. Four years living on the street. Four goddamn years living on the worst streets of the world they know.

He wants to change Levi's past, to do something so that all of this only becomes a lie, a nightmare.

"Kenny used to tell me that rats like me only had two doors open: crime and prostitution. Living on the street, I understood that it was true, although there was also a third door, to die. But Kenny trained me so that I wouldn't have to end up like Mom, and so that I wouldn't have to die inhaling shit. 

"Although some tried to buy me to fuck me, it was something that happened to me from time to time. Sometimes, one pig offered to buy me dinner in exchange for a blowjob or to sleep indoors in a hotel if I let him fuck me. Many pigs, judging my size, also thought that forcing me in an alley would be easy; they used to think I was younger than I was, which made everything even more disgusting. But I never accepted or forgave them for trying to force me, I never denied myself to kick the crap out of them instead of letting them go, not even when they offered me money or food in exchange for leaving unharmed.

"Prostitution is a job like any other, neither Mom nor her co-workers were doing more than putting food on their tables the way they had at hand being women in the Underground. But I didn't want to end up like her. I wanted to use my strength just like Kenny had taught me."

He wants to tell him how glad he is to know that he was able to take care of himself up to that point despite having to use so much violence in the process, he wants to shout it out, but Levi is not going to receive his emotional outbursts well. 

But how can he not feel moved? So, so moved, just thinking about that teenager escaping from criminals and rapists, from pigs, growing up not without perceiving the injustice of the world firsthand, in the most brutal way possible.

That he feels disgusted by sex not only seems inevitable in this context; it's just the least that can be expected.

It is.

That is why he was talking about being used.

He grew up believing that sex is…

"Eventually, I joined the right gangs, betrayed the right people, and made a name for myself: nobody wanted to mess with me in the Underground, so I took the opportunity to save money and rent a filthy little room. Later, I saved enough to buy a house. It was small and destroyed, but I tried hard to make it a clean place, as clean as that room I lived in with Mom. 

"One day, Farlan, who had a similar story to mine, heard about me; we started stealing together and dividing our money and food half and half. We became friends, lived together for years; he was the only person in the world I trusted, the only human being who didn't disgust me."

Erwin smiles. He thinks he's not meddling by asking him this question:

"Did you sleep with him?"

"Yeah, I did."

"Why only once?"

"Farlan liked women, he just wanted to try. It wasn't serious."

"What about you? Was it just to try out or…?"

"He turned me on, the bastard was handsome." Without any hint of jealousy, Erwin smiles more when he hears him; there is something in the idea that touches him in a very particular way. "I had suspicions about my tastes, but I never cared to find out about them. It was only clear to me that I didn't have the slightest interest in sleeping with women. I used to think that it was because of Mom and her co-workers, that I didn't want to hear a woman moan as they did."

Thinking about it that way hurts him a lot, it's as if Levi was pricking his heart with a needle; it hurts him just as the whole story does. But Erwin knows that what Levi needs is to continue talking:

"Then why?" he asks. 

"Farlan used to say that it was just part of me, that even if I grew up somewhere else I’d like men."

Erwin nods. 

"I agree with Church. It's part of who you are."

"Is that how you feel about it?"

"That's right. My nature has never stopped me from being attracted to men and women. Even when I didn't realize I liked men too, I was attracted to them."

"I see."

Levi takes a deep breath; the shaking is more subtle, but it's still present. The voice, on the other hand, has gained a little more strength but is still limited to being no more than whispers. 

"Years later, I found Isabel among drunkards in an alley; she was undernourished. I guess I took her with me because she reminded me of me or Mom. I only knew that I didn't want to let her die among those pigs; it made me sick just thinking about it. Farlan and I trained her and we became the most dangerous gang in the whole of the Underground."

"And then I met you."

"And then you met me."

Many questions come to his mind, he tortures himself thinking of the answers. Does he regret following him? Does he hate him for the death of his friends?

But no, he says to himself putting in his hands all his will power -if he's telling him all this, it means that Levi regrets absolutely nothing.

If Levi is showing him his heart in flesh and blood by telling him so many truths, it's because he trusts him.

Because he's satisfied with his present and has no regrets.

What pride fills him; what peace despite the shock. He still has much to think about, much to analyze, but he doesn't succeed in doing it.

He just…

"Levi…"

"What?"

"I…"

He squeezes his mouth against the black hair so that he can restrain himself from saying it; this scene is neither about him nor about his feelings. 

An _I love you_ is not enough. Nothing is.

"Do you want to have a cup of tea?" he improvises.

"I need to take a bath."

To take a bath.

Due to trauma.

Although thinking about everything related to Levi in this way is not admissible, he cannot avoid it, not yet. Especially because of what is so obvious.

He hasn't yet digested everything he has heard. 

"There's a bathtub here. Do you want me to fill it up and warm it up for you? So you can relax. In the meantime, you could go down to the kitchen and prepare tea for both of us. We'll have it before you take your bath."

Because if there is one thing that is clear to him after listening to Levi's story, it's that everything revolves around the same thing, an imbalance. 

He doesn't even want to think about it, not in front of him. Better to leave it for when he's alone. 

In the meantime, it's good to distribute the activities equally, not to be sickly-sweet, not to bother him by taking care of everything.

"Okay." Levi gets up. Erwin, trying to keep his composure, follows him.

Levi looks for his clothes, which are in three different points of the room; Erwin finds his one quickly. After getting dressed, he looks for the top of his pajamas and walks up to Levi, who hasn't got to put anything on, to give it to him.

In the middle of the room, they look at each other for the first time since Levi's testimony. 

No, Erwin doesn't see the same image anymore.

He sees more, he sees everything.

Levi, naked before him, naked in all possible ways at once.

It's the most precious thing he has ever seen.

"Take my shirt, it's warmer than your pajamas," he says as he puts each arm into each sleeve. When he finishes, he buttons his shirt very delicately.

Levi looks at him when he finishes.

.

.

.

He continues to treat him like this despite everything he said. He's still a gentleman despite the shitty story he just told him. 

Even though he's just a pig…

Even though he cannot give him anything but his body in return…

Even though he cannot just relax and fuck…

Even though he's so, so fucked up…

He didn't expect this reaction, although seeing it reflected in Erwin's eyes makes him understand that he underestimated absolutely everything.

It was obvious that he was going to take it well.

Erwin is that cheesy.

That good.

But he can't help but feel this dirty in front of him, stained by the blood that opening his chest in two has made him shed. 

He cannot bear to look at him. He knows how vulnerable he is before Erwin's eyes, those he never wants to let down because of his shit. He doesn't know how to tolerate these eyes after so much.

But if Erwin accepts him…

"Thank you," he whispers, in a hurry, before lighting a candle and leaving at full speed.

.

.

.

Alone, Erwin feels his entire body numb. Gone is the erection, also the erotic thoughts with which he started the night.

Only one thing prevails.

Love.

After taking a deep breath, he looks for the candle on the nightstand and takes it with him to the bathroom. At the end of the long room, just below a tiny window, he looks at the white rectangular bathtub. It's very beautiful, a luxury compared to the community bathroom at the headquarters, where there is no place for relaxation or privacy like this one. 

He sits on the only stool in the room to prepare the wood inside the small boiler. He does it, and his eyes get lost in the fire that spreads out in front of him little by little.

Traumas.

He’s so glad that he didn’t penetrate Levi. He never thought it was possible to think of it that way, but how sorry he would be now if he had done so considering the huge story he didn’t know and which lay very well hidden inside the silver eyes. He wouldn’t have liked to do it without knowing it.

Now all makes sense. 

He sighs before the fire of the boiler that he cannot stop looking at. He needs a new mind map to analyze the situation completely, to tie up all the loose ends, and to do what Levi finds so hard, to explain what that past really means.

Because that is why he told this story to him, he understands, so that they could analyze it.

Because Levi himself doesn't understand it.

It's about inequality. It's about Levi not being able to see himself on the same step as him or anyone else. It's about how Levi cannot see justice anywhere, not having grown up in a place where power caused such inequality between those who had it and those who didn't.

Everything, in principle, is part of that concept.

Levi grew up in an adverse environment in which things happened, things that he, as a child, had no way to fully understand. Perhaps, as he grew up and gradually understood what was happening, he developed a natural rejection towards sex, exacerbated by the offers, by the attempts to force him in those times when he was homeless.

He squeezes his eyes shut. He doesn't want to think about it in-depth, he cannot.

It drives him mad just to consider it, it weakens him.

He remembers the first time they had tea at night, that day after going out to drink with Hanji and the others; Levi told him that he looked at him like a pig.

One that had just paid for a prostitute.

That was the first reference to sex that Levi made to him; it was the most determining information without a context that could read it.

Before they kissed for the first time that early morning on Levi's birthday, he remembers later, Levi asked him not to be a pig.

Without knowing it, perhaps what he was asking for when he told him that was not to feel subdued by him, by the inequality between them.

Before spending the night together on New Year, he recalls at the end, Levi told him that he knew he wouldn't be a pig because he trusted him and he didn't disgust him.

He scowls at the boiler as he gets dizzy, while his eyes chase the crackling of the fire. 

The only man he slept with turned out to be Farlan Church. It pains him to think that Levi had to lose in such a terrible way the only person to whom he had allowed this kind of intimacy. It's a little more understandable how terrible it was for him to lose Church and Magnolia. 

The only balance he had in life.

Unable to contain it, he blames himself covering his face with one hand. 

If Levi doesn't blame him, however, then he has to learn to forgive himself. 

He just wanted…

Damn it.

Church managed to create a place as safe as the one Levi needed. Although it would be easy to feel guilty about it too, for not being able to do it, he understands that no, the problem is not that he didn't give Levi that security.

It's about…

What?

Perhaps, it's that he and Church were only trying out, that what was happening between them was previously stipulated; it was going to be just once. After that, everything would continue as it came.

So that is it, yes.

It's just that what he and Levi share is a long-term thing.

Or at least that is how it feels. 

Levi is disgusted with pigs, in short. The rich, the sick, those with power, those who subdue others just because they can.

The ones he saw going in and out from the room he shared with his mother. 

His mother… 

No, he can't think about her yet.

For some reason, he takes up again, attraction, or comfort, or trust, and nothing else, helped Levi to separate Erwin from that group. 

Levi managed to see more than a pig in him. 

He smiles. He's moved by the thought, honored by it. He has never been a pig, neither with women nor with men; sex, for him, has always been a pastime that never exasperated him, something to relax.

That Levi felt comfortable perhaps was due to all that Levi himself inspired in him. 

Also, maybe it was because of what Erwin inspired as well. 

Levi has shown interest to learn how to do things. Oral sex, masturbation, penetration; he has shown to want to know how to do it and to stretch this side of his relationship with him over time. He has also insisted over and over again that he penetrates him. He has told him _fuck me_ more times than he can tell.

On the desk, he asked him to get off even though they were out of oil.

In front of the fire, he claimed that he, Erwin, was the one who always did everything, the one who asked for nothing in return.

Today, he asked him why he didn't use him.

To use him…

Erwin has done many things with him. Determined to learn from him, to learn to give him pleasure, Erwin, even on those occasions when he wasn't the one to initiate things, has given him a lot of pleasure.

He did it without asking anything in return, inspired by that magnificent being, enraptured by everything that Levi made him feel, eager to know everything, to learn everything. 

Without…

Does Levi feel uncomfortable being the one who gets the pleasure most of the time?

Does Levi feel uncomfortable seeing himself in the role of a…?

"I brought the tea."

The sentence Levi pronounces from the doorway of the bathroom makes Erwin finally get away from the boiler. He leaves, but not before turning the faucet on.

He returns to the room. Levi has put the desk chair next to the bed and, on it, the cups he brought from the headquarters, the teapot, and a barely opened box of tea. Sitting on the bed, he pours one tea, pours the other, and waits for Erwin to take a seat on his left. 

"It's one of those I bought the other day," Levi explains, mentioning the first thing he did when they arrived in Mitras: buy ten packages of different kinds of tea for their free time at the office. He drinks it and barely scowls. "Not bad."

Erwin does it too, and the hot water fills him. 

"Exquisite."

"Even if it's not sweet."

"Even if it's not sweet…"

They drink in silence. Looking at the liquid filling the cup, Erwin thinks, again. Sex disgusts Levi, but he doesn't. Levi doesn't want to be the one who always enjoys it; he wants…

Because…

So…?

"Did you understand why I told you?"

The question unsettles Erwin, it confuses him. He looks at Levi, stunned, and takes a deep breath as he stops doing so, focusing on the cup once more. 

He understands one part, that of the analysis. 

But there is another part that is not yet fully explicit. 

"You said it was obvious to you to ask me why I didn't use you," he says, though what he's doing is to think aloud. He does nothing but to exteriorize everything that comes up his mind.

"Did you understand why? What do you think?"

They look at each other sideways. Erwin asks himself. What does he think?

Why to ask something like that and to think that is obvious?

Why does he…?

No.

"Levi…" he whispers.

He has just understood.

He leaves the cup on the chair. He does the same with Levi's. He holds one of his shoulders as he passes his hand under his shirt and caresses Levi's skin with his thumb. 

"Why do you think it's wrong for you to enjoy yourself? Why are you so convinced that I don't enjoy it, too?"

Levi looks to one side. 

"It's obvious."

"It's not."

"Why?"

"Because we are under the same conditions. Between you and me there is no master and servant, no king and slave, no squad leader and soldier, no… prostitute and pig…" He holds one of Levi's cheeks so that he can do what he loves the most by being alone with him, looking at the silver and feeling invincible and safe, free like those birds that leave the walls every day, those creatures that he envies to the limit of absurdity. "We are the same, two people who have been through things. I enjoy seeing you and understanding what you enjoy, also learning from you, and you learning from me. Nothing we do is just for me, it's not my way of understanding this kind of thing; I don't want to do anything that you won't enjoy too. Levi…

"There are no roles here. It's just you and me."

.

.

.

That is it, then.

That is it, yeah.

It’s to be the same despite being so different.

It's not to be pigs.

It's just to be people.

Two people standing on the same step.

Two people who can trust each other to leave their difficulties behind.

.

.

.

"But it's hard to believe."

"What do you mean?"

"That I'm not a pig by lying on the bed, spreading my legs and letting myself be groped for my own selfish will. I… I can't stand you indulging me as if I had paid for…!"

Erwin doesn't realize he's kissing him until he feels Levi's lips pressed against his. This is the problem, this is the main reason why Levi told him all this, the need to let him see why he finds it so hard to relax and why anxiety stops him. Like a chain holding him against his will, that past and those traumas, that inequality governing all his memories.

Levi tries to tell him that he wants to, but he cannot.

And that he wants to be able to.

And that he wants to.

He lets go just to look at him again, to feel more and more invincible by focusing his eyes on the silver, to be strong and face this situation as Levi deserves.

Levi is not seeing himself in his mother's role.

He’s seeing himself in her clients' role.

He’s seeing Erwin as the one who is in an unequal situation.

He’s seeing himself as the one he hates the most.

He’s protecting him from himself, then.

Levi wants to protect him.

That is what he wants.

"Fuck," Levi interrupts him as he looks at him. He moves his pupils frantically; the vulnerability he feels when he looks at Levi plunges Erwin into unbearable anguish. Every gesture confirms what he has just understood. "This was about you managing your shit. It was about you, not me!" Heartbroken, Erwin looks at everything, how Levi clenches his teeth, how Levi holds back tears that he surely doesn't feel over his eyes. But he doesn't cry; as if he cannot do so, he never cries. "I didn't plan to enjoy it that much, that you turn me on so much, to want to fuck so much. No…"

Erwin breathes as fast as he can; it's as if he had to gather air before the imminent disappearance of the universe. 

He has to hurry before the concept gets out of his hand.

"Do you disgust yourself for enjoying it? Do you feel like a pig for doing it?"

Levi stops breathing for a significant moment.

.

.

.

That is why he shakes, that is why he holds back, that is why he gets so fucking nervous.

That is the reason why, damn it, and Erwin has understood perfectly.

He managed to see the chain that he has no idea how to get rid of.

Erwin Smith is a gentleman.

He raises his hands in the space that separates his body from Erwin's; they are shaking once more.

Enough.

"I need to take a bath."

He gets up not before finishing the tea in one sip and leaving the cup on the chair. He walks to the bathroom without looking at Erwin, trying to forget that he's behind him. Erwin doesn't follow him; as expected from someone like him.

If Erwin was also a pig everything would be easier.

If he didn't have such a fucked up mind he could be the one Erwin needs, not this.

Not this rat without enough screws to consider himself sane.

He hears Erwin lifting the cups and the teapot. Then he hears him leaving the room. A few minutes go by, minutes in which Levi remains in front of the bathroom door that he has never considered opening. He looks at his hands, thinks about everything he has said.

Erwin respects him, that is the problem.

Someone who knows so little about respect cannot get used to receiving it, not so fast.

Not being this fucked up. 

Not being so disgusted by himself for enjoying this intimacy.

Erwin returns. He hears him locking the door once more, then dragging the chair to the desk, leaving the tea box on it next to a pitcher of water, and arranging the sheets when he returns to bed. 

"The water must be ready by now, you can go in," he says with the shyest voice he has ever heard from him. 

Levi swallows as much air as he can. A chill breaks his back in two, and everything is obvious, and he hates how fucked up his mind is. 

He looks at him; Erwin looks stunning. Illuminated by the candles and the moon, he's more beautiful than the art of all those children with their butts exposed painted on the marble of the royal palace, also more beautiful than the sky outside the walls.

He cannot leave him like that. Not when he has done so much for him.

Hating himself, looking at the floor with his half-closed eyes, he asks for it:

"You too, come on."

After saying it, he opens the door and moves forward, unable to look at Erwin again. 

Not until he can clean himself up and get this shitty feeling out of him, knowing that he's dirty, that he'll always be dirty, that he'll always be in danger in this disgusting world ruled by violence.

It's the idea of needing to clean itself, and above all Erwin, so that the dirt of this world, that violence that kills, can never reach them at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for getting here. ♥️
> 
> Today I want to say many things. Don't hesitate to skip these final notes; it's just complementary information.
> 
> (((Beware, there may be spoilers from the manga)))
> 
> Sorry if it's uncomfortable to read. I didn't want to dig too much into certain concepts; I wanted Levi to tell things in his own way, in his own words, and delving into certain details with certain untidiness. 
> 
> My love for Kuchel (which is huge. Those who follow me on Twitter have surely noticed) has a very intimate reason that I cannot talk about, but that touches the most sensitive fiber I have inside my heart. I knew about her when I saw SNK season 3 in 2018, precisely a couple of months after that event that changed my life forever. I didn't realize until recently why her story was reaching me so much. 
> 
> My love for Levi, who was already great, grew to infinity after Uprising arc. I deeply admire this survivor, he's one third of the love I feel for SNK (another third is Erwin, and the rest is the plot itself, the concepts, the symbolism), and my motives are very personal and also very honest. I love him because he taught me very valuable things that helped me a lot in shitty times. 
> 
> I love him very much, and narrating his past was something I needed to do. In a way, it was necessary for me.
> 
> Why didn't Kuchel grab Levi and leave when the disease started to spread? I think it's obvious, but I'm clarifying it just in case: she didn't do it because the Ackermans were still being persecuted, that is, she didn't do it out of fear. She was between a rock and a hard place, basically. 
> 
> But did that virus appear out of nowhere?
> 
> I'm not going to answer that question right now. 👀
> 
> Why were there Asian women? Well, we don't know exactly how big the Asian clan that formed inside the walls was after the first Azumabito settled in Paradis. We can think that these "couple of Asians" are distant family of Mikasa's mother, who like her and like Kuchel were persecuted by the Reiss.
> 
> I mentioned it because I wanted to add a little color to the background (?) and it didn't sound out of place to me.
> 
> Let me mention this song again even though no one will listen to it, "What you don't know" by Jonatha Brooke, that is, the intro of the forgotten and underrated Dollhouse. It's my Kuchel Song, and the final part, which is hummed, is what I imagine she sang to Levi. 
> 
> It's one of my favorite songs in the world by itself, but it conveys to me the same thing as just thinking about Kuchel, that's why I tied them in my head. If you want those feelings, I highly recommend it. ♥️
> 
> About the awakening of Levi's power: until canon says otherwise, my hc is that Levi's Ackerpower woke up when Kuchel died. I know that many people think it was when Farlan and Isabel died, but I don't find logic in that reasoning. What makes me think that it was with Kuchel is that Levi was still alive even though her body... had been there for days and days. It's the state of her body the one that makes me think that the fact that Levi survived is perhaps due to the fact that he had already awakened his power and, therefore, his greatest resistance... That is to say: being without his mother could have triggered his survival instinct; without her, he was alone in the world. That is why I think that, at least of the facts we know about his life, that is the one that most agrees with the idea of the awakening that Zeke presented to us in 130.
> 
> About Isabel: in the anime they know each other differently, but I preferred to follow the manga, which seems to me infinitely better than the ovas.
> 
> About the bathtub: I mixed a little bit the idea of Japanese ofuro with something more western, let's say; I still don't know well how to portray that weird period in which SNK is located. Thanks to those nice people who gave me opinions about it (♥️♥️♥️).
> 
> About details regarding Levi's story: I didn't put everything, there are quite a few things missing. Above all, we need to look deeper into his relationship with Kenny and the suspicions (not mentioned during the story) that Levi has about Kenny, not knowing if he's his father or not or what. Erwin also needs to stop and think about some details; he's going to need time to digest so much information.
> 
> About Levi's age: I forgot to include the math I did to get to those 12 years. I'll explain it better later. T__T
> 
> And that's it, I think. This chapter was very painful to write. If you made it this far, I thank you very much, because it means that you kept me company while I was writing it symbolically.
> 
> Thank you, thank you very much for your comments and support. I appreciate you with all my heart.
> 
> More today.
> 
> THANK YOU.


	29. XXIX

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise to reread tomorrow. Thanks for your patience regarding my second language! ♥

**XXIX**

It's very difficult to know what to do. It is now, knowing everything he finally knows about Levi. Because Levi wants and Levi intends to learn; because Levi is willing to extend this bond forward in time.

But he cannot.

Erwin thinks about that while he arranges the sheets. When Levi gets out of the bath, they will sleep and nothing else, and it will be Levi's choice to stay in this room or not.

Yes, that will be the best.

Traumas, he understands, are like symbolic scrapes, conceptual wounds that burn on a purely emotional level. He cannot heal scrapes to which he has no access; Levi's scrapes are beyond his reach.

He can only do what he has done all night, to support Levi in whatever way Levi decides is appropriate. He cannot force situations, rush processes, pretend those scrapes don't exist.

He can only leave everything in Levi's hands.

Because it will be Levi's choice, not his.

And it will be a choice Levi will make thinking about himself, not about him.

Arranging the pillows, he looks at the oil on the nightstand. He no longer even conceives the idea of having sex with him in that way in which Levi considers that two men are _really_ doing it, that is to say when one penetrates the other. Erwin doesn't want to anymore, or yes; of course that he wants to.

But he cannot either.

As Levi, no.

If the moment to use that oil never comes, it will be fine.

It will.

He smiles at the thought, convinced.

That is the way it will be.

Although perhaps it's not that simple.

Erwin finishes with the bed. He looks for Levi; he's still standing in front of the bathroom door, as rigid as a statue. 

"The water must be ready by now, you can go in," he tells him, not without shyness.

He no longer knows how to treat him, he understands; he no longer knows what is enough and what is not. He has no idea of anything anymore, only that he feels as chained as Levi seems to be and that he wants to convey nothing but respect. 

But what a calamity not to know, to have this problem being so near and so far at the same time, two people unable to be free, to trust each other and themselves. 

This world is cruel.

But maybe it's also…

Levi looks at him. Instantly, he stops doing it.

"You too, come on," he answers.

After that, Levi disappears in an instant, he does it by getting inside the bathroom. Not fully understanding his request, each second a little more confused than the previous one, Erwin decides to restrict himself to observe, to learn, to understand in order to help. He continues to be chained to this ignorance. But he cannot do anything until he fully understands this request, this accompanying him to the bathroom.

What does Levi mean by this? Perhaps the wisest thing is what he has just decided.

That he will respect everything that Levi chooses.

The rest can be concluded later. 

Yes, that is it.

Without further ado, he follows him.

He closes the door behind him to preserve the heat inside the room; as he does so, the place is reduced to a gloom. The light coming through the little window is not enough, nor that of the lit candle on the support pinned to the wall. 

He looks at the bathtub at the end of the room: Levi is in front of it, looking at it. He still has his shirt on.

"I've never used one of these in my fucking life," he says.

Erwin's heart twists as he listens to him. No doubt he will love using it.

Or so he hopes.

"A lot of people tend to clean themselves up before they get in, so the water would stay clean," he explains, remembering the bathtub he had in the house where he lived with his dad, the only luxury they had in that modest home of his childhood.

"So what the fuck are you getting in for if not to clean yourself up?"

The possible metaphor of their situation encourages Erwin. Why does he give pleasure to Levi, if it's not to seek his own satisfaction?

"To enjoy the heat," he answers.

Levi, who is still with his back to him, clenches his fists. That is the signal Erwin takes as the right one to approach. He does so, gets close to Levi, and puts his hands on his shoulders.

"There is a grating there," he shows him as he points to the left. He also points to a wooden bucket. "We can wash quickly before we get in." 

"Okay," Levi replies, his voice an expressionless sound. 

Tempted, Erwin thinks of helping him to take off his shirt, but he doesn’t do so. With his back to Levi, he takes off his clothes and sets them aside on the stool. He turns around, and the image of Levi undressing dazzles him as much as ever.

Even more.

"Give me the shirt," he says, "I'll leave it here."

Levi turns around and gives it to him; he looks at nothing in particular, as if he were ashamed, or afraid, or nervous, or all at once, a whole that his stoicism cannot hide.

Or it does, but Erwin can already read beyond.

Perhaps the problem is Levi cannot hide anything anymore, not from him, and this failure bothers him.

They should…

He folds his shirt and leaves it on the stool; after that, he approaches the grating. Levi is already standing on it, with wet hands and soap spread on his body. He fills the bucket with water from the bathtub, throws it over his shoulders, and rubs his body with a grace that inspires Erwin a lot. It’s arousal at the beauty, admiration at the tidiness, love at the unexpected vulnerability he notices in him.

When he wants to realize it, he's only doing that, staring at how Levi washes perfectly in just two minutes.

"The rumor was true," Erwin whispers as he takes another step toward him, "you're the quickest to bathe."

"Nonsense from lunatics who talk nonsense as a pastime."

Without looking at him, Levi steps into the bathtub and sits on the opposite end from where the grating is, next to which Erwin washes with his back to him. Focused, he makes sure he cleans himself very well. This is the third time he has bathed today; what a luxury.

It's a little bit of everything Levi deserves.

When he finishes, he leaves the bucket, turns the faucet off, and enters the bathtub. He sits down in front of Levi, on the other end.

Only after all of that, they look at each other's eyes.

Erwin studies Levi's posture: he's like he was in bed, hugging his knees. The water reaches his neck; in Erwin's case, it's hardly up to the middle of his chest. 

They are so different regarding so many things, and yet…

"How weird it's to see you without that thing in your head," Levi says.

Erwin laughs as he sits down just like Levi. With his fingers, he strokes his hair with no lotion. 

"I don't like the way it looks like that."

"Besides being cheesy and boring, you're flirty."

"And a little bit creepy…" he mutters against his knees. 

"Quite a bit. You're pretty creepy."

They continue to look at each other. There is shyness floating in the air, some helplessness that feels odd between the two of them, even more so after all they have said to each other. 

"Does the heat of the water please you?"

"Yeah, it doesn't feel bad at all. I’d like one of these for when we return from our expeditions."

"When Keith makes his resignation official, his room will be assigned to me. I have thought of leaving you the room I use; it will correspond to you by rank. The commander's room has a bathtub like this one. It's the only member of the Survey Corps with a personal bathroom."

"I see…"

"You can use it whenever you want."

"Together with you?"

Levi looks at him with explicit seriousness. Erwin thinks he reads everything, but at the same time, he doubts everything he thinks he sees.

Why?

"It will be a pleasure to share it with you if you want to."

Levi looks to one side; his arms squeeze his knees tighter.

"Isn't it unwise to assign me that room, precisely the one next to the one that will be yours? What do we do if someone suspects?"

Erwin has considered this, of course. They cannot afford to be careless, not in their position, not considering that Levi's promotion will be violent; if someone discovers them, a simple rumor could discredit them, not only him as a commander but even the whole of the Survey Corps. He cannot sleep with a subordinate or leave the implicit idea that his promotion is related to that.

How absurd to deny Levi's strength, but yes, there will be people like that, other soldiers willing to discredit Erwin for sleeping with him, refusing to believe that Levi would have earned it with dignity just because he had different wings.

Literal ones. 

"You'll be squad leader because of my promotion; you're second in command in ours due to Mike's promotion. It's the only room available for your future rank."

"But you know some people think I'm a piece of shit, right? Not that I care, I can live with that, but I guess that is normal. You're working your whole fucking career and then a rat from the Underground comes along and…"

"You're not a rat."

"It's not about being or not being a rat; it's about understanding how people see us."

Erwin nods, he does it without realizing it. True, he has to concede: every person has a perspective; the power that governs humanity’s lives perpetuates derogatory looks toward those in the lowest social classes. The system itself takes away their opportunity to be something more to society.

For those who grew up above and not below, even if that above is below Mitras nobility, those who come from the Underground are just that.

Rats.

"Indeed, your promotion could result in animosities; it will be my duty as a commander to keep egos with their feet on the ground and eyes covered with objectivity."

"And what does that mean?"

"That to deny your talent would be stupid."

Levi seems to think about his words, although he's quick to frown.

"But you can't risk it, Erwin. If one day someone sees something or hears or…"

"We will be careful. We have been so for the last month."

"Will sharing a bathtub with you in your future room be careful?"

It's as if he's trying to push him; as if something in Levi is feeling unsafe and he can only find in these question-asked answers the precise way to make him question absolutely everything.

It's not clear to him why Levi is reacting this way, but it's better to go along with him to evaluate the situation.

"Sharing the bathtub with you in my future room will be something that will happen behind closed doors. I trust that you will make me see that certain moments are not convenient; I promise to do the same."

Levi looks at him in complete silence.

 _Don't push me, I won't leave_. That is what Erwin tried to say without saying it.

Or maybe he's not pushing him. Perhaps, what Levi is doing is making sure that he wants to continue with this.

But why does he feel so insecure? Because of his life story?

Or is he afraid of something related to…? 

Levi sighs; Erwin stops wondering when he notices how he massages his neck, how he throws water on it.

Is he tense?

"Come here," he says without thinking, convinced of what he wants to do, something he expresses with a smile.

"Huh?" Levi mutters, raising an eyebrow.

Erwin spreads his legs and stretches out his hands to invite him to listen to him.

"Come on, come here," he repeats.

Because if he has understood one thing about Levi, it’s that yes, he needs to be pushed a little.

Or pulled closer, more likely.

Although he takes his time to do so, Levi finally obeys.

"What do you want?" he says on his knees right in front of him. 

"Turn around."

"Why?"

"Come on, listen to me."

"Fuck…"

Levi turns around. 

"Sit down," Erwin whispers to him very gently.

Levi obeys once more, he sits with his back to him. Only then Erwin puts his legs around his hips and pulls him to accommodate him between them.

"What the fuck do you want to do to me?"

Erwin holds his waist underwater. 

"A massage."

Levi remains silent for a few more seconds than usual during a conversation. 

"Do you have any idea how to do that?" he asks quietly afterward.

"Yes. Can I…?"

.

.

.

Why doesn't Erwin stop being like that?

Why is he still a gentleman?

Why does he keep touching him, if he never…?

.

.

.

"Alright, do it," Levi interrupts him. "I’ll judge how good you are."

Erwin laughs. What does he mean by that? Although he also gets a little nervous thinking that he might not like it. But no; with a smile, he encourages himself by remembering that, as he has been told in the past, he's quite good with his hands.

The position they are in is not the best one, but maybe he can help him to relax at least a little bit.

With this in mind, with his eyes focused on the beautiful skin of the beautiful back, Erwin squeezes Levi's waist under the water. He does this delicately, trying to create a relaxed atmosphere around the two of them. Levi breathes heavily as he feels his hands on him, he also does it when Erwin makes them go up through his back very, very slowly until they reach his shoulders. 

How small his body is. He's strong, athletic, but he feels small compared to him. Nothing he can do in this life would ever protect the strongest person he knows, the strongest from every point of view, but here, together with him, sharing his heart and body with him, he wants that, to have that talent. 

He wants to protect him as much as Levi protects him perhaps even without knowing it. 

Seduced by the scene, by everything it conveys, by the dim light of the candle and the heat of the water and the pale back, Erwin, without releasing Levi, kisses a shoulder, then the neck, then one of the ears he has before him.

"Hug your legs and lean forward. It will be more comfortable for you."

Something in his words seems to make Levi react differently. When he finishes getting comfortable, Erwin starts moving his hands to each side of his back in circular movements. 

Levi, although at the beginning he breathes with a hint of agitation, surrenders, gives in, allows him to do everything.

Happy, Erwin puts all his attention on the massage, on the stretched fingers that reach to cover almost the whole back, on the circles that he draws with the palms of his hands, on Levi's now soft, peaceful breathing.

In the beauty of the back that he wants to allow himself to kiss for hours, for days.

Forever.

He's absolutely in love with him, so much so that the concept ends up being humiliated compared to the unfathomable that is this that fills him. He loves him with energies that he didn't know, inspired in a thousand and one ways that his mind cannot calculate, which would be impossible to explain. It's more than an unjustified teenage crush, immature because of inexperience.

It's devotion, an absolute one, categorical, as powerful as the hands of the one he touches.

It's to adore him in a way that suits this point in his life, to do so to such an exaggerated extent that it even hurts. And it hurts, yes, it hurts a lot. Looking at this back hurts.

Because it makes him helpless as a child, just like his dreams do. 

But to look at this back, to touch it, to feel the breath and also the heart is, in turn, to understand that something in his life has become much better, clearer, more meaningful, even powerful. Levi touches fragile parts of himself over which Erwin has no control; he makes him a better person precisely by achieving it, by humanizing him by doing it.

He's the most important human being of his present. 

The definitive one.

He opens his mouth, still massaging his neck; he tries to say it even though he has no right to do so.

 _I love you_ , that is what he wants to say. Because, even though tonight is neither about him nor his feelings nor an act born from pity for the life story he has heard, he needs Levi to know it.

He needs him to know that here, in this symbolic place in which only the two of them exist, violence will never exist.

But Levi doesn't let that happen.

"You're not so bad," he says.

Almost as if he had guessed it, as if he was trying to remind him that violence exists because they are at war.

Erwin takes a deep breath. 

Maybe it's better this way.

Focusing all his attention on the back, on the nape to which he's paying special attention right now, Erwin understands that the best for both of them is to go along with the conversation:

"You seem to know about it," he says.

Levi nods with an almost imperceptible movement of his head. Erwin notices how he squeezes his legs a little tighter with his arms.

"Isabel was pretty good. I never knew where or how she learned, she was so clumsy, but yeah, she was really good. She used to give Farlan and me massages after dinner, while we passed the time drinking wine."

Isabel Magnolia, two pigtails holding some blood-colored hair. How much Erwin would have liked to have interacted more with her, also with Farlan Church.

How much he would have liked Levi not to have had to lose them like that.

"Are you surprised that I'm doing it well because of that?"

"What do you mean?"

"You said Magnolia was clumsy."

"Call her by her name."

Erwin's hands stop for a moment. Levi is peculiar to say things, he already knows that, but being asked to do this is a special honor for him.

He's asking for that confidence to call his friends by their names, not by the surnames by which he knew them as soldiers.

"Okay…" he whispers, trying to hide the emotion that overwhelms him so easily before him. "Then Isabel was…"

"Clumsier than shit."

Erwin smiles.

"Do I look clumsy to you?"

"Actually, no. But even though you have good hands, I don't know, I didn't think this suited you."

"Do you think I have good hands?"

"I'm not sure, but they're huge and you keep them clean. That is important."

Has Levi ever studied his hands? Has he analyzed how clean they are?

Thinking that maybe it's not a bad idea to give back so much honesty with a little of the same, Erwin does what he doesn't usually do. 

He talks about himself. 

"Marie taught me," he confesses.

"Your ex?"

"Yes."

"Speaking of that Marie, did that rat-faced bearded guy marry her, or is that his wife's name too?"

Erwin cannot let surprise overshadow the laughter that comes from the most unconscious part of him. Rat-faced bearded guy? Calling Nile like that…!

It seems that Levi paid enough attention to their conversation.

"It's the same person," he admits as he smiles.

"How do you still talk to him when he has married your ex?"

Erwin laughs again. How relaxed he feels; as if he's getting the massage. 

"I never told him I had a thing with her; true to be told, calling her _my ex_ is an overstatement. I also don't know if Marie told Nile. He decided to have a family and stay within the walls. I respect that, and I respect Marie if she decided that Nile was a good man for her. In fact, I tried to help them."

"Huh?"

"I helped him to write love letters."

"Do you write love letters?"

"I've been told I'm good at it."

"Farlan thought he was good at it, he liked to write love letters, but he was really bad at it; no girl ever paid him any attention. Isabel and I used to make fun of him for that."

Each thing Levi tells him fills his heart a little more. Massaging the base of his neck, Erwin sighs.

He shouldn't say this, but this back makes him dizzy, so does the dim light, so does the heat of the water and the gentle breathing and calm heart beating against his hands.

"Someday I'll write one to you."

"Too cheesy for me."

Erwin cannot help himself: he kisses the back of Levi's neck when he lets go of him and thus ends the massage.

"Pretty good," Levi says as he strokes his neck. He continues to breathe calmly.

It worked.

"I'll have to try harder next time," Erwin says. 

"Why?"

"To make the compliment better."

.

.

.

Maybe it wasn't like those massages that Isabel used to give, because neither he nor anyone else will ever be her, just as no one will ever be Farlan or his mom.

But Erwin has done more than good. Even better than he's able to admit out loud. 

He's not alone.

That is the truth that lies behind this whole situation. It's to understand that he's no longer alone and that although he might regret opening his heart like this, it's worthless.

There is no turning back. Perhaps there never was.

"Do you want to come out?" Erwin asks. His voice is a caress, it's like velvet against his skin; there is calmness in the voice, and how different it sounds from the Erwin he knows, the one who manipulates the pigs, the one who gives orders to his subordinates, the one who feels guilt for his past.

Does he want to?

Something in the heat of the water in line with the heat of Erwin's body, that something that seduces him and calms him too, answers for him:

"Not yet," he says and lets the heat guide him as he leans back on Erwin's chest.

Because he doesn't want to come out.

Because he's tired, fed up, and feels vulnerable, and no longer wants to be alone. 

Because he needs this heat to overwhelm his heart like this, just like this.

.

.

.

He welcomes Levi with open arms, of course, but something in the movement confuses him. 

Unable to analyze it, he just leans back a little, holds Levi by wrapping his arms around his shoulders, and stays hugged to his back like this, both of them sunk up to their necks in the hot water.

What does this mean?

.

.

.

That it's too late. 

Erwin knows too much, and yet he's still here, and yet he still shows this respect and trust that squeezes his body in every corner, that makes his whole skin sensitive. 

Knowing this makes him happy – if he still knows what it means to be happy, but it also plunges him into a fear that he hates to feel.

He's so used to see death, to feel it, to smell it. He has even provoked it more times than Erwin's respect for him deserves. But that is how he grew up, surrounded by shit, and he often had to kill simply because it was what he had to do amid that disgusting context. He's not a victim of his circumstances; that is his mom.

He was never a victim. That was impossible. That wasn't what Kenny taught him.

All he wanted was to survive, to do it so he wouldn't end up like his mom.

Because he was indebted to her and all the sacrifices she made for both of them.

Because he wanted to show Kenny that he could.

Because he wanted to, no more, no less.

That was his choice. 

He has a much bigger problem than he admits with attachment; he hates to overanalyze the weird things that live inside his fucked up mind. Being attached to someone is not an easy thing for him, so used to death.

By spreading his legs for Erwin so that he could manage his shit, Levi understood that both of them would do it, after all.

What he didn't understand was that managing his shit would require showing it.

Farlan was right; he's like ice, he always was. He has hidden his heart from violence for as long as he could. At first, out of survival.

Deep down and always, out of fear.

Detachment only brings loneliness, but to become so attached to Erwin Smith has condemned him to this, to be vulnerable, to live naked and without ice protecting him from what he feels.

The infinite love that only belongs to Erwin. Because it’s true, he feels something for Erwin, something different and powerful. 

Erwin already _exists_ inside his heart.

What remains now, after such a realization, is this, to accept it. It's to know that he'll suffer, that one day he'll lose him and he'll be no more than a feather floating in the air, with no future, with no destiny.

It's to know that it will be his turn to begin again if this happens.

It's the uncertainty of wondering if he'll be strong enough to do it or if violence will end up consuming him.

It's to know that he won't regret all that hypothetical suffering if it's in exchange for all this happiness of the present.

He won't regret it even when he loses him, because he's cursed and always loses what matters to him. 

He won't because he has never felt so much happiness.

Because he's transparent. 

Because Erwin _exists_ , yeah.

He relaxes more and more against the chest behind him; the beat that hits his skin is like the confirmation of all these truths. 

Yeah, it's happiness. 

It's in this feeling, one foreign to what his heart knows about the world, in which he loses himself by surrendering to the heat of the chest and the water. A fog fills him, which doesn't let him see anything, a numbness similar to the one that comes after pleasure. But it's stronger, but is born elsewhere.

In…?

He sings his mom's song, he sings it inside his head with mental whispers.

_La la la la, la la la la la la, la la la la la laaa…_

He sings along with the heart that beats against him, the one that sets the rhythm of the song. As the heat envelops him, he sings loudly inside his head, he does it as if it allows him to clean all that shit, and he sinks deeper into the chest, and closes his eyes, and leaves, and disappears, and goodbye violence forever.

And violence is the one that leaves, not him.

Because he loves Erwin Smith, he loves him with such a devotion that hurts, and hurting him lets him know how real it is.

Because there is still a person inside the ice. A fragile human despite how sharp he has become on the outside.

But the ice has melted. Erwin broke it, and every piece has melted around the two of them. And now he's sinking, and sinking, and the chain holds him down when some vertigo attacks him.

If his heart is so afraid of sinking, it means that it's still alive, just like the heart that beats against his back.

No matter how fucked up they are or not, no matter these vertigo or the chains, they…

.

.

.

Time stands still. Yes, it does. For a second, Erwin is as sure of it as he is of being born into this world.

Levi, leaning against his chest, has fallen asleep. 

He looks at him trying not to make the slightest movement, and to let him sleep, and not let the clock start again; Levi has a relaxed expression on his face, instead of that usual frown. His bangs are just a little bit wet and dry on his forehead; his lips are barely open. His breathing is slow and deep.

Erwin smiles as he squeezes his eyes shut. He feels the insides of his nose burning, feels his eyes getting wet, but no, he doesn't cry.

He opens his eyes, looks at him, hallucinates when he looks at him, and understands the magnitude of what is happening. Because Levi wouldn't do this with anyone, not like that, naked in a bathtub, vulnerable in every possible way, without weapons close at hand, like that knife that everybody knows he has hidden inside one of his boots. Levi would never lower his guard in front of anyone.

And here they are.

Moved, he smiles until his mouth hurts, feeling a heat that leaves them under the same condition. A heat that leaves him exposed in body and soul if the latter is more than a metaphysical concept worthy of an absurd religion like that of the cult of the walls.

In case it doesn't, then he will give it his own concept:

It's the nakedness of the body because no garment covers him.

It's the nakedness of the soul because there is an innate part that also can feel naked, that intangible but also unchangeable side of these imperfect beings called _humanity_. 

That he fell asleep like that only confirms one thing.

Levi trusts him.

What can be more moving than that?

Even though he will never deserve it, he…

Levi's eyelids quiver, open. The silver eyes observe him with a certain surprise painted on the pupils.

"Did I fall asleep?" he asks.

"For a little while," Erwin replies just before kissing him on the lips. "Come on," he says later, "let's come out before the water gets cold."

.

.

.

Levi pays no attention to anything that follows. He dries himself off, puts on the shirt, walks away from Erwin as he returns to the room, but no, he pays no attention. Neither he does it when, already in the room, Erwin offers him a glass of water, or when Erwin puts the candles out and asks him if he wants to sleep next to him. He only pays attention at the end of the process, when he lays down to the right of Erwin's body on the bed, Erwin who shows him his naked torso, who is only covered by his pajama bottoms. Erwin who smiles at him just before kissing him and whispering _good night_.

He sees him closing his eyes and sinking into the pillow, on his side and before him, just like him. The only light present is that of the moon, which fills the bed as it comes in through the window; it makes Erwin look like a block of ice, as blue as his eyes, those that are more beautiful than the sky.

He loves him.

Goddamn it, he loves him.

And he doesn't want to be alone, but not for fearing loneliness.

It's because Erwin _exists_.

How is he going to live with this fucking pain inside…?

He looks at his hands, which he has curled up against his chest. Both are shaking.

It's the fucking chain.

That is the problem.

He feels that he wants to fuck, but more than anything he feels that he wants to vent all the shit that fills him, the shit that smells good inside his chest, the shit that is not such, but love.

He wants to fuck because that is the only way in which he considers it possible to tell him that he adores him, that he's going to protect him with his life, that he's going to keep this devotion as his flag until his fucking heart stops.

Because if he loses Erwin that will help a lot.

Keep what he feels intact.

Honor this fucking love forever.

But how dizzying is the very idea of letting himself fall, of breaking the chain and sinking into this deep water of his feelings. This ice that Erwin broke and has now completely melted.

This heat always surrounding them when they are alone.

It terrifies him to think that, for having told him what he said, his story, his shit, his traumas…

He's terrified to think that Erwin will never want…

"Fuck…" he whispers as he opens his eyes widely, his pupils all over Erwin Smith's sleepy, relaxed, beautiful face, that of the man who saved him, the one who gave meaning to his miserable life.

Erwin is a gentleman.

He respects him.

He’ll always respect him.

He's terrified to think that he'll never be able to fuck with Erwin and help him to manage his shit and explain to him with his body how much it loves and adores and worships him his heart, that cursed organ that still has the misfortune to feel.

Or not.

Maybe it's not a misfortune.

Because he's not going to regret this.

No, he won't regret it.

But dammit, how overwhelming is this heat that he feels, the melted ice turned into the water that boils against his skin, even underneath it.

He gets a little, just a little closer to Erwin. He studies everything the moon allows him to see. The nose, the eyebrows, the mouth. The eyelashes, even the fucking eyelashes! So long and so blond, so imperceptible between this light and this darkness.

It's not about wanting to fuck, he realizes.

It's about wanting to fulfill this almost physiological need to protect him. But not the commander.

The human.

The heart of this man that he'll follow until hell.

He wants to show him that someone is watching him, that he's not alone, that he can count on him for everything. Because Levi can be many things. A weapon, a comrade, a shoulder, a body.

He can be everything to the one who is, without even making an effort, what _he_ needs.

That is it, that is the fear.

That Erwin never dares to touch him due to all the traumas that fuck up his mind.

He knows that he'll shake again and it'll be hard for him to understand and learn and get carried away and even enjoy it. But he doesn't care.

He wants to do it, but not to please him, because he's already understood the fucking difference! Late, but he understood it.

It's because _he_ needs it. 

Not for the pleasure, not completely.

For this love, the one he feels and needs to scream symbolically.

That is it, exactly that.

He doesn't want to be a pig.

He wants to give that shitty concept that is tied to sex in his mind a new meaning.

Because he needs Erwin.

Because he wants and not for much else.

Like living. He wants because he wants.

Because it's his choice.

He comes a little closer to Erwin, who is sleeping, or that seems to indicate the softness of his breathing. He whispers to him without a voice just before putting his lips against his mouth.

"Erwin…"

.

.

.

Lips take him from the arms of sleep, and squeeze him, and kiss him very, very slowly. They do it with some shyness, with a little bit of curiosity.

They do it with desire, but also with affection, one that Erwin is sure he has never felt more clearly in the past, not coming from whom it comes.

Nor from anyone else.

He opens his eyes, impressed by what he perceives, and finds a dreamy image, one more of many he has tied to Levi in his mind. Only the moon that illuminates the bed allows him to see him, that is to say, the light that most beautifies him, that seems to belong to Levi and anyone else. Thanks to the blue tones that the light brings to the bed, Levi looks like an ice statue.

He's magnificent, a perfect statue that is like that despite so many things, so many punches that haven't damaged his perfection. 

Someone who managed to preserve his humanity.

The most beautiful thing that exists.

"Levi…?" Erwin whispers against the lips that leave small kisses all over his mouth. "Are you okay? You can't sleep?"

Levi doesn't answer, not with words. He just kisses his lips. The affection that the kisses express seems to shout between them, they are overwhelming shouts that disturb him in the best way even though they don't sound but exist.

Because they exist.

Levi's affection _exists_.

Erwin exhales against his mouth, overwhelmed by this possible delusion. It's like the truth that he longs to see, but this one feeds other aspects of his being, those tied to loneliness, to eternal incomprehension, to pain, to that child he has deep inside.

Levi, nobody but Levi, feels something for this one that is him, this imperfect being choked by guilt every damned minute.

For him.

For him, even though he never…

Relief drowns out everything he could say. He has no words left, everything has abandoned him. Because it's as he once thought.

This is dangerous.

But it's also wonderful.

"I want to do it with you," Levi says. He speaks with that usual harshness, with that supposed indifference that is not such. And despite the tone he uses, it feels more real than his body, than the moonlight, than Erwin himself here, in this scene. "Can we fuck?"

They stare at each other despite being so close. Levi's eyes are as huge as the truth he swears to see every time he steps outside the walls, that reflected in the sky, that magnificence tied to his dreams, one that ignorance doesn't let him read.

"You don't have to do this for me, Levi," Erwin says, however. "I won't lie to you: I would love to do with you everything you want, everything, absolutely everything. But the way you're shaking, your story; it all fits, it allows me to understand why it's hard for you, and I don't want to force things."

"If I'm the one asking you then I don't understand why you would be forcing things." Levi's tone sounds annoyed. Erwin wonders if that kind of irritation he perceives is dedicated to him or Levi himself.

"Because you asked me why I don't use you," Erwin replies as gently as he can, determined to make respect prevail over everything else, even his desires. "I can't accept, not thinking that you look at the situation from that point of view."

.

.

.

Because he respects him.

Because he could use him, but he has chosen not to.

Because…

.

.

.

"Then teach me," Levi whispers, choking, just before kissing him with an excitement that makes Erwin’s back fall against the bed. Levi puts his arms around his neck; the heartbeats push against him at full speed. "If I don't try, I'll never learn. I'll still have the same shitty idea I already have. And I don't want it anymore, Erwin. If I told you that, it was because I don't want it anymore."

Erwin takes a deep breath. He looks at the silver eyes, which under this light look a little bluer than usual, and wonders what this means. 

That Levi wants, of course.

That he cannot, as he concluded earlier.

But that he wants to be able to, as he confirms to him right now.

As he has been confirming all night long.

Erwin is shaking now. Looking at him, he shakes along with Levi, who keeps on shaking on him. 

"Levi…"

He sees him clench his teeth tightly; frustration screams in a thousand languages inside his eyes. They are glued to each other, attached in a way that is as precious as it is intolerable; they both want to do it.

But…

"I trust you."

Erwin feels the insides of his nose burning, again. It's as if his tear ducts are melting like the rest of his body. He looks at Levi's eyes once more. 

What he just told him is the most perfect thing Erwin has ever heard in a situation like this one. It's probably the most beautiful thing he has ever heard. 

That Levi, Levi with that story and that pain and those traumas inside him, is trusting him…

"And I trust you," he answers in a whisper that makes Levi frown. The gesture indicates discomfort.

It only expresses joy.

Because Levi doesn't know how to smile, neither to enjoy, neither to relax, neither to release the chains that restrain him.

But he has learned to trust him. 

Levi gets up. What he does is so important, so sacred, that it's as if it took him a century to do it. He sits on his hip, placing one leg on each side of his body, and tightens his waist with his knees.

He looks at him.

.

.

.

The ice has been broken.

.

.

.

Levi is like ice. Before the moon that covers him, he is. He has forcefully retained his humanity despite the cruelty of this world.

He's more human than ever when he shows himself like this, transparent.

Levi looks him in the eyes and shows him that there is nothing that separates them, nothing more than what he so much needs to learn to leave behind.

If this is Levi’s choice, then…

"If you want to stop…"

"I'll tell you, Erwin."

"If you need something to be different…"

"It'll be because I'll tell you."

"If you want me to…"

"Enough." Levi looks for his right hand. He puts it against his chest, over the shirt, and everything returns to the beginning, to that New Year's Eve, which is so far away after so much. The eyes look at him seriously, with passion, with confidence.

They look at him with the intensity of a thousand suns shining in the midnight hour.

"Come on," Levi says, as serious as he looks at him. "Come here and stop making choices for me: whether it's a mistake or not, this is my choice."

A choice he made based on trust. 

One that neither of them will regret.

.

.

.

Erwin's hand comes alive on his chest, after all. Levi shakes against his will.

The hand goes down his chest, exerts pressure on the touch, massages what it rubs, holds one side of his waist.

Erwin sits down. As he does so, he places Levi on top of him. He looks at him as firmly as he can, both of them surrounded by the same light, both of them like ice statues shining before the moon on the right side of the bed.

"Say it again," Erwin asks against his mouth.

Levi rests his hands on Erwin's shoulders. He's still shaking, perhaps it's inevitable, but the conviction that fills him is stronger.

"I trust you," he says because he doesn't need to ask him what he means, just as is not desire what brings them closer. 

It's this trust born from devotion, respect, love.

It's breaking the ice, breaking it in such a way that it never covers them again before the other.

To sink together – in the same embrace and without chains on their wrists – in the water that boils around them.

What they feel, what they are.

Two hearts on fire that _exist_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much for reaching this point. Also thanks for the kudos (almost 500! THANK YOU), for the bookmarks, for the beautiful comments you allow me to read…
> 
> Thank you for your patience as well. I will be able to update a little more frequently from now on, I hope I can do it well and that you like it!
> 
> I really appreciate your comments, you have no idea how much you help me, how much you make me smile. Thank you to those of you who take a moment to tell me what you think of each chapter; it helps me to have the courage to move forward with this fic. I promise that things will be clearer from now on. Times of learning and growth are coming in the fic, or so I hope. 
> 
> A little something: That "did I fall asleep?", "for a little while"… I took it from Dollhouse. XD It was a small tribute to the series whose opening inspired me so much to write (?).
> 
> Thank you so much for everything, really. And in case I can't greet you sooner, Happy Levimas, Happy New Year and may 2021 be a little more indulgent with all of us. 
> 
> THANK YOU! ♥


	30. XXX

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please forgive me. This chapter is very long, I had a hard time translating it and I'm very embarrassed, but I put a lot of heart into it.
> 
> I hope you like it. Thank you very much for everything. :')

**XXX**

He would love to have an extra pair of eyes, ones that would allow him to see from the outside the image this kiss projects. He would also love to see how the scars on Levi's back shine against the walls when he removes his shirt without unbuttoning it, how the white fabric slides across his skin, how his fingers do it.

Also, to see all that the image of a shirt falling to the floor, useless, defeated, implies. 

He would love, yes, to see how they look at each other like this, sunk in this pool of water that looks like a room, two bodies illuminated by the same light, two figures that cast a single shadow.

But he can only see Levi's eyes at the precise moment in which he undresses him, how he looks at him, how he stares at him when his shirt falls to the ground.

It's just that he has never seen so much determination in him, one mixed with nervousness, of course, but also with hunger, with despair. 

With a desire that is up to this intimacy. 

He never thought it was possible to see something like this in these blue-painted silver eyes while Levi's arms remain raised, as he gasps for breath as if they were already doing it. 

Until Levi remembers he can move, or so it seems as the eyes change from longing to agony, and he wraps his arms around Erwin's neck. 

Feeling the torso pressed against his with no more clothes between them, Erwin caresses him from thighs to waist, from waist to shoulder blades. He presses his open hands over them, breathing as choked as Levi is, and without closing his eyes even for an instant, he kisses him. Levi squeezes his eyes shut when his lips touch him; frowning, he seems to focus.

But he doesn't.

What he does is holding back, and that is why his arms shake around Erwin's neck, and his nipples are hard against his chest and tickle due to the shaking. Levi doesn't want to react like this, he understands.

He wants to learn not to let himself be overwhelmed by this sort of vertigo that takes control of him when pleasure is near, what pushes him towards violence. 

Erwin thinks he understands something else: Levi feared that he, out of respect, would never want to touch him again. But now, although he has made up his mind and is willing to learn, Levi cannot relax. He still feels the urge to get out of control, to enjoy this from a land of violence, to be the wildest of storms to destroy everything around him. To do all that to worship his essence, one shaped by all that he has had to live, by all that molded him while he grew up amid the most disgusting cruelty of this world.

Not having the right to choose. 

If Erwin wants to help him, he has to teach him; if he wants to teach him, he has to understand what he has to teach. He also needs to know how much he can do based on his knowledge.

He has to flow, to break free so that he can understand what is going on.

Only then he understands he's nervous. 

He hugs Levi when he realizes that; when the nervousness spreads like branches sprouting inside his body to reach his most sensitive spots. He holds back the laughs he wants to dedicate to himself because of how pathetic he feels.

This is absurd.

He has fought titans. He has cut off the back of their necks, seen them eat their comrades, run away from them galloping at full speed. He has no right to get nervous about something as beautiful as the fact that Levi trusts him and is asking for his help to start working on his difficulties related to the intimacy of two bodies by themselves.

He cannot just be the child here; he cannot just be human. He needs to be every Erwin all at once, his full version. The child, but also the one who knows how to read situations, the one who knows how to interact with people, the one who is experienced enough to make decisions most quickly and accurately.

He has to gamble, too. Because he has no idea how to help a person in Levi's situation, but he's going to give it his best. Because there are no titans here, and they are alone and safe.

Yes, that's what he has to do.

To give Levi the best version of himself.

The only version of himself that is up to him.

He frowns, thoughtful; Levi is shaking badly. His breathing is a mess, it has no pace, no sense. 

His breathing…

When he has one of those anguish attacks, one thing that helps Erwin is…

"Breathe," he whispers in Levi's ear, who sinks his fingertips into his back as he hears him. "Breathe slowly, deeply…"

"I'm not out there before a fucking titan…"

Erwin smiles. Sure, they are not facing a titan, nothing deserves so much nervousness in this situation.

But each person has their hell, one filled with difficulties that are unique to them. 

They cannot judge each other, nor themselves. 

Although the guilt Erwin feels and the fear Levi feels may seem stupid to people living in different hells…

"No, you're not out there," Erwin explains, "but those breathing exercises do help a lot to fight panic in the face of certain kinds of situations."

As it happens to him with those anguish attacks, when those ghostly hands tighten around his neck.

"It helps me. That time, you helped me like that," he finishes, stroking one of Levi's cheeks.

.

.

.

It's true.

That time, the first time they shared a cup of tea, Erwin had a crisis like the ones Isabel used to have. 

As it happens to him when they come back from an expedition; when sweeping the whole barracks nor taking five baths don't help him to get rid of the smell of the titans.

Breathing always helps in shitty times. 

But, for some reason, he considers it something out of place, something that doesn't fit in this context. 

Maybe it's because, despite having confessed his past to face the problem, he continues to underestimate his struggle.

However, whether he underestimates it or not, nothing calms down the longing, this need to squeeze Erwin until they both disappear. Because that is what he wants them to do, disappear, do it for a while, go to a better place to feel things he's not used to, to do it with his memories gone, with no previous experiences ruining the will that this desire arouses in him, this wanting to let himself fall without fear or vertigo. 

He wants to trust that he can do it.

Erwin hugs his waist.

"Come on," he tells him, "breathe."

Though annoyed at having this stupid difficulty, Levi does so, inhales as the corps doctors instruct before leaving the walls, exhales until his lungs are empty.

Only then he notices that, with a smile on his lips, Erwin is doing it too, that he inhales and exhales with him still holding his waist.

Levi inhales again; he feels, with astonishing clarity, how both Erwin's chest and his rise. One against the other, lungs full of air rising at the same time. Then they lower their chests, and again, and one more time, always looking into each other's eyes, chasing the pupils in constant movement.

His arms squeeze around Erwin's shoulders; their breaths collide given the closeness of their mouths.

It's like being attached, like being the same, like being one inside the other.

Thus, it becomes evident the up and down of their hips mimicking their torsos that push against each other. It's the clear need to feel themselves between their legs.

To plunge into a dream, a perfect one. So perfect that Levi can no longer stand it, but not because of fear.

Because of longing, the one that has swallowed his vertigo.

That exists alone within his being.

Levi kisses Erwin at the precise moment when perfection becomes unbearable to him. Deep inside, his fucked up mind takes the floor. _This is not real! The world is not beautiful! Life loves to crap all over your head._

_It always will._

He gasps against the other mouth as he feels his erection throb against the muscles of Erwin's abdomen. Erwin stops kissing him and stares at him.

Just as at the beginning, he smiles at him.

"Breathe," he asks with patience coloring his eyes. Levi does it again, not understanding if he's shaking or not, not knowing if vertigo has returned or longing has exorcised it. Erwin continues to breathe at the same pace as he does. "That is right…"

His arms shake on Erwin's shoulders, they do so despite how much it helps him to relax to breathe like this. It's just that he wants to do things, to take the initiative, to not let…

He told Erwin he trusts him.

They are equals.

They are not pigs.

Erwin will know what to do even when all this seems impossible for him.

.

.

.

Against his abdomen, he feels Levi's erection throbbing. Also how his arms, wrapped around his neck, hold back all the violence. He looks into his eyes, and Levi has never looked more beautiful.

His mouth parted, wet. His eyes, unfocused. With the moon above him giving a unique tint to his cheeks flushed from the heat they share.

Perfect.

"Breathe," Erwin repeats, and allows himself to relax as he does so as well, and allows himself to pay attention to every tiny detail. The softness of the skin under his fingers, the movement of Levi's body against his, the hardness of the cock against his abdomen, these arms and these legs shaking around him.

After inhaling, exhaling, inhaling, Erwin holds one of Levi's cheeks. He caresses it; his eyes don't blink once. Levi looks frustrated, exhausted, but longing keeps flickering inside his pupils.

They won't stop being nervous. Putting pressure on each other in this way is worthless. This is something from one to the other, something that will only remain between them.

Something they will never explain to anyone, something for which only the logic of their bond applies.

It's time to continue, he understands.

This is _their_ mess, and it will be beautiful, of course, because it belongs to them. 

.

.

.

Erwin's fingers move up from his waist to his shoulders, slowly, but exerting a little more and more pressure on his skin. 

A shiver runs down his spine as the strength of the fingers pushes him forward, causing his erection to throb against Erwin's abdomen once more. Levi gasps as the hands squeeze his shoulders, as the fingers come down again, strong, relentless against him.

It's like a thunderbolt, electricity slamming into Erwin, bouncing off, returning to him one thousand times more intense. 

He arches his back as his arms, overwhelmed by the same tingling that has taken over his whole body, fall to the sides of his hips. He holds onto Erwin's thighs; feeling the pressure of the fingers breaking his skin, he crumples the fabric of the pants that cover the thighs with his hands.

Instinctively, because the fingers squeezing him are the only thing he perceives of the real world, he moves his hips forward. The friction against the muscles of the abdomen makes his eyes close tightly, his nipples harden more. His skin almost detaches from his body. 

He gasps, he does it one more time. When vertigo grips his arms, he breathes hard, nervously, but doesn't give up.

It's then that Erwin's mouth presses against the hollow above his collarbone. He kisses the bone, then his chest.

Erwin kisses his left nipple, and Levi's body jerks over him, complete.

He releases an _ah_ that he didn't know with how much energy he was holding in his throat. The relief that follows after he sets it free makes him dizzy, it does so thanks to how much this mouth that kisses him, that grabs his nipple between each lip and sucks it in, distracts him from vertigo.

"I'm not a woman…"

"That is a prejudice."

Then this is fine, Levi thinks without thinking, actually, because the electricity has never left his body, because it still vibrates beneath his skin, and generates other _ah_ to which he, as defeated as victorious, allows to escape.

"Fuck…" he mumbles. If what he hears is real, if it's not a delusion of his fucked up mind, he does so in a hoarse voice. In response, he hears Erwin's breathing making too much noise against his nipple, which he nibbles very, very subtly. "Erwin…!"

.

.

.

This is the way, not to give him time to panic, to doubt, to let fear win against him.

To convince himself that Levi wants this, that this is the path Levi asked for them to take, and that he must merely obey with all the joy that to be the one to share this scene with him confers.

It's to reach that moment when Levi whimpers and something breaks out of him, and he disconnects, and he no longer has the energy to reason because of the pleasure that runs through him. It's reaching that point and not slowing down, sure that if Levi needs it, he'll stop him.

It's trusting Levi as much as Levi trusts him by allowing him to be part of this intimacy.

.

.

.

The fingers sink into his back, move down, trace the outlines of his body; the mouth begins to suck his right nipple. Levi feels how his hips move on their own. How his dick, and its hardness, and that which he so desperately needs to release, controls his whole body. It's that longing, spreading inside him like an incurable virus. 

The fingers reach his buttocks and sink into his flesh. He cannot remember such a thing, such a caress from Erwin to him.

It mesmerizes him.

The _ah_ he releases is no longer a gasp, but a moan. The latter shakes.

Whimpers.

.

.

.

It's now.

.

.

.

Holding him firmly by the buttocks, Erwin moves his hips back and forth, causing more friction between the erection and his abdomen. Levi's mouth begins to go dry from failing to shut, from failing in the absurd attempt to try not to moan. And he moans, he hears his moans as he squeezes his eyes shut and holds on to the pants. 

One crash into the other, another one; fingers dig deeper into his buttocks, something that unleashes another kind of electricity inside him, like a hundred thunderbolts instead of one burying themselves into him at the same time. He rocks his hips to give the crashes more energy.

"Shit…!" he whimpers before a high-pitched _ah_ that is shockingly long.

Erwin releases one of his buttocks. He holds one of his hands.

"Help me," he asks in a whisper, lips talking around his right nipple.

Levi opens his eyes. Looking at their hands, Erwin's hiding his thanks to the size difference, he understands that Erwin is not naked, not yet, and his request relates to that.

As best he can, because he's shaking like crazy, Levi rests his knees on either side of Erwin's thighs and tugs at the pajamas, always helped by these huge hands. When the elastic of the pants and underwear reach Erwin's knees, they look at each other again.

Slowly, Erwin helps him to sit on top of him. Levi feels a very, very hard erection against his belly.

Gasping out of nervousness, anticipation, painful arousal coming from between his legs, Levi looks between their bodies. Without hesitation, he holds Erwin's dick and strokes it as gently as he can manage to control it. There is just so much violence inside him.

But Erwin has already explained this to him, that he shouldn't be rough, that he doesn't like it when someone is rough with him.

Erwin sighs against his forehead as Levi's palm comes down around his flesh. 

He needs that sound to become the world around him.

He repeats the motion, does it again; Erwin's sighs become gasps, then moans released almost painfully.

"Is that okay…?" Levi asks not without annoyance. He hates being so insecure, so clumsy in this kind of situation.

Erwin holds his dick, too. He strokes it so well that it's like it's his, not someone else's.

Levi jerks against him.

"I love it. Keep going…"

Levi feels an extraordinary warmth fill his chest, like a candle burning in the middle of his heart.

He loves that Erwin loves it.

He loves doing something as well.

.

.

.

Erwin follows Levi in everything he does, in everything he proposes with his hand. The same pressure on the grip, the same speed. They do it in the same way and at the same time, two hands going up and down, synchronized. Their eyes only look between their legs while their mouths, parted, release the same sighs.

Erwin hears two things. First, how Levi swallows; then, how he breathes between his teeth.

He stops touching Levi and, with the utmost gentleness, asks him to stop as well. Levi does so, perhaps reluctantly. 

He's still shaking, he does, but there is enthusiasm in his gaze.

There is conviction.

Erwin kisses him slowly as he clings to his cheeks. Levi follows him, though his messy breathing, which is more of a disaster, hinders his lips. 

After that, Erwin embraces him. He caresses his back, sinking his fingers into the skin just as he did before, moves to his buttocks without letting up on the pressure; Levi moans as he kisses him, and squeezes his waist the same way he does, sinking his fingers just the same, copying his every move.

Erwin holds his buttocks and makes Levi thrust against him as he moves his hips. Levi arches his back and squeezes his eyes shut as he whimpers on top of him.

Inspired by how much it arouses him to hear Levi, by how much he's aroused by the simplicity of this friction he provokes by moving Levi's hips, Erwin lifts him.

As he lies him down face up on the mattress, Levi's body quivers in a dreamlike image.

Another one, always surpassing the magnificence of the previous one.

.

.

.

The breathing thing works, it seems, or at least it helps him calm down enough not to feel the shit that has been filling his life for as long as he can remember. Although he puts willpower, as much as possible, not to dwell on that detail.

He doesn't want to stop paying attention to what is going on; he needs to focus.

Erwin and him, that is all that matters now.

He works on breathing at a coherent pace as he notices how Erwin gets up from the bed. He hears him make some noise; when he looks up at him, he sees him standing with his back to him, taking off his pants and underwear completely. 

His ass is a fucking sculpture. It's beautiful.

Before Levi can realize it, Erwin is spying on him with a smile on his lips.

"You're looking at me…"

And what does he expect? Levi clicks his tongue.

"How do you expect me not to look at your ass, when it covers the whole fucking room? I don't know how the fuck it fits inside your pants."

Erwin turns his back on him again as he laughs. Levi feels his heart beating harder.

He bites his lip as he looks at his ass one more time.

He loves his body.

Almost as much as his laugh, the thing that perhaps takes him apart the most when it comes to this bastard.

Erwin takes the bottle of oil and uncaps it. He sets it down on the nightstand like that, ready to be used.

Without realizing it until he does so, Levi swallows.

Erwin sits down next to him. Denoting a serenity so uncharacteristic of this face that always looks serious and focused, he leans towards him, kisses him, and holds his waist with his hands.

Delicately, he invites him to lie on his stomach.

Levi rests his head on the pillow so that Erwin can't look at his face. It's very suggestive, being face down is too suggestive, it gives him a hint that this is going to happen.

It makes him feel helpless in a way that is unacceptable to him.

But which also moves him, which touches delicate fibers of his emotions that he has no fucking clue about.

When the bed sinks a little to his side, Levi understands that Erwin is on it once again. He notices how he moves next to him, how he positions the knees on either side of his thighs, how he holds each side of his hips.

"Put your knees on the bed," he asks him.

Levi swallows again as he nods.

Holding the pillow with his hands with all the violence he doesn't want to use on the one who is accompanying him, Levi rests his knees and thus allows Erwin to lift his ass. He makes him spread the legs a little more.

This is too explicit.

"Breathe…" Erwin whispers, caressing the outer side of one thigh.

Only then Levi understands that he's shaking like crazy once more. Gripping the pillow tightly and clenching his teeth as well, he does his best to calm himself down.

Erwin has already done this to him. He's probably going to finger him and search for that spot that drives him crazy, all to turn him on, to dilate him, to…

"Tell me if it hurts, please. Or do you need us to stop for a moment?"

Levi clicks his tongue, again.

"I'll be fine…" he says as he keeps trying to focus, to not let the chain stop him.

To finally free himself from everything that is holding him back from what he wants the most right now.

Erwin and him.

Because nothing else matters to him.

.

.

.

He wants to ask him if he's sure, wants to convince him that there is nothing wrong with stopping, but Levi himself strengthens his will to continue when, after assuring him that he will be fine, he adds something else:

"Remember that…" Levi takes a very deep breath. "I promised I'd tell you if I needed to stop. You can go on. I…" He inhales, exhales, he does so with special effort. "I'm a man of my word."

Erwin smiles. Levi is trying very hard to achieve his goal, to learn to enjoy this, not to do it from the land of violence, but in this safe space, the one they are for each other.

He cannot let him down with his doubts.

"Okay…" he replies.

He glances at what is between his buttocks. This angle is especially explicit, maybe not the best way to proceed, but this is also the most practical way to do the most important thing of all efficiently, to prepare Levi so as not to hurt him or cause him pain.

He has to do it very, very well. He knows he can; this part of sex is one that he especially enjoys, that stands out among other parts.

He's confident he can do it the right way.

He sighs. Without further ado, he reaches for the oil and prepares to begin with unusual enthusiasm, more powerful than the light that illuminates Levi so well.

That beautifies him even in the most intimate parts of his body in ways Erwin cannot believe.

.

.

.

With his eyes closed, Levi focuses one hundred percent on his breathing, also on the vulnerability he feels, the one that, even if it annoys him, also turns him on.

Fuck, it turns him on.

Who is he kidding?

Maybe it's because he's starting to enjoy being like this with Erwin. 

Sharing this side of himself with him.

Although it doesn't amuse him to know that Erwin is looking at his hole with an emotional child's face because he's thinking cheesy shit despite how explicit it's that…

"Ah…!" he whimpers as he pushes the pillow with his eyelids.

Erwin is massaging his hole with a finger. He does it with sickly gentleness as if he's in no hurry. Maybe he's not, though Levi doesn't share that opinion.

It's the usual. Wanting everything badly, now, immediately, even though urgency is only a ghost.

Vertigo lying to him and messing up his thoughts.

The finger exerts a little more pressure; the dampness of the oil, the one that covers the finger, makes him shiver. 

He holds back a gasp against the pillow. He seeks all the air he can just before the finger draws circles as it pushes against his skin. 

He wants it all, now, right now.

But he has to be patient.

He's not someone who can be patient easily; he likes solutions, not problems. But Erwin responds to another kind of logic. More attached to the idea of achieving his goals, he takes care to do things right, to persevere if the situation calls for it, to take risks if necessary to achieve results.

Or that is the impression he gets amid this mess that is his fucked up mind, as he squirms just for a few touches that exert very little pressure on him.

Until a finger barely penetrates him, and circles around his flesh, and squeezes the inner walls as it spins. 

Until that same finger leaves, returns, it sinks deeper, and impacts against that spot where the magic happens.

Levi screams. It's like having his body plunged into a pot of boiling water, such it's the heat that covers his skin as the mere stimulation of that spot unleashes waves of pleasure that run through him like a thousand matches traveling through his veins.

"What the fuck are you doing…?" he asks as the finger strokes the spot up, down, over and over again.

.

.

It's touching for Erwin to realize how little Levi knows his body. It saddens him because this ignorance at his 26 years old speaks not only of the evident lack of experience; but, above all, of the inequality that reigns within the walls. That Erwin – despite the concept of two men in a bed being taboo to the invented morality within which they exist – had access to a kind of education to which Levi couldn't even aspire. 

Because surviving was more important than learning.

But he's touched by it, yes, because being the one to help him understand certain things is a deep honor to him.

It urges him to try even harder.

With the instinct born of that sort of truncated vocation to devote himself to teaching, Erwin tries to explain it to him:

"The prostate," he whispers as he brushes the very spot inside him.

Levi moves his hip perhaps unconsciously as Erwin stimulates him.

"And what does the prostate have to do with all this…?"

"It's an extremely sensitive spot; stimulating areas that are close to it gives a lot of pleasure." Erwin strokes with a little more effort using his right index finger, while with the left one he dilates the entrance; Levi chokes back a scream as he quivers. "Do you like it?"

.

.

.

"Are you kidding me?" Levi asks with no more air, no more regularity in his breathing pace, squirming because of each caress. 

He doesn't want to say it, but he doesn't like it.

It's literally driving him crazy and in the best way.

Erwin is not touching him like that time on New Year; the nature of the caresses lets him know that he's stretching him, not looking for him to come.

The caress devoted to the spot that drives him crazy is a simple accompaniment.

"Focus on what you feel now," Erwin asks him in a teacher's voice. "Remember to breathe; it will help you."

Listening to him makes something inside him disrupt. Levi feels how the chain stops him, how it exerts symbolic pressure on his wrists; a slow, purposeful caress, tears from him a moan that ceases to resemble those that inhabit his memories.

That acquires another meaning because it happens here, inside this room, and thanks to Erwin's fingers. 

Wrinkling the sheets with his fingers, Levi closes his eyes tightly. 

What does he feel?

That he cannot breathe due to the sensations that take over his body. This heat that spreads, that comes from inside him and reaches everything, that penetrates his skin as it melts, that penetrates Erwin and inspires him, that fills the room even more than the moon. 

That is what he feels, that he lets out whimpers, grunts, gasps; that his throat no longer belongs to him, and is Erwin who decides what sounds come out of it.

That Erwin dilates and caresses him, that is what he feels; that he makes the whole of his body bigger just with the touch of his fingers, which do everything well. Because every millimeter they brush is the perfect millimeter at the right moment.

"Fuck…" he sighs as he startles.

He feels he needs Erwin to touch him more, to enter parts of his body that don't exist, for him to burn just like him. He feels he cannot stand it anymore.

That he has to do something to make it happen.

His body moves on its own; his hips thrust the air as if it were another body. He understands that he cannot stand the position he's in, and he leans on his outstretched arms, his palms clinging to the sheets.

Whatever it takes to sink into the sensations.

To feel more. 

Because he needs Erwin to cover him, to crush him, to suffocate him as he's suffocated by the heat that makes his forehead sweat and shakes not only his body, the visible; also whatever is behind it, his heart.

"Erwin…!" he moans, and when he feels he's going to come he moans an _ah_ or an _oh_ , and then something that makes no sense. He breathes hard through his teeth, fast, as he collapses onto the mattress one more time. "Stop… I don't want to cum yet…!" 

Because if he does so, they won't fuck, and that is what he wants the most in the fucking world.

He knows him well enough to be sure of that.

That Erwin will wait a while, that he'll hesitate again; that all this torturous but wonderful progress won't be enough. 

Erwin understands, it seems, or that impression he gets when his fingers leave him. 

Gently, Erwin lies down on top of him. Levi feels the erection rubbing between his buttocks with more affection than lust.

How cheesy, and how pathetic that it makes him feel so emotional.

Erwin kisses the back of his neck, then his shoulders; the dick keeps rubbing against him. Erwin's whole body does it.

Just what Levi wanted, for Erwin to crush everything he knows.

When he thinks Erwin will try to put it in, given the proximity of the dick to his hole, he feels himself paralyze, but no.

Erwin nibbles his shoulder. Moving a hand under his body, he squeezes one of his nipples with fingers that still have a hint of oil on them, which, far from making him uncomfortable, makes him even more sensitive. 

Erwin's hips push against him; all of Erwin, his whole body, does so.

"Come here," he says as he kneels over him and helps him to turn around.

.

.

.

There is no way to delay this any longer, not when what follows is so inevitable. Understanding this, Erwin looks at Levi, but cannot manage to say a word.

He looks dreamy. It has to be a dream; there is no other explanation, not to such beauty, not to how perfect these eyes look under the moon, whose light seems to cover the bed more intensely than ever.

As if it was only looking at them. At them, as if they were the only two human beings born into this world.

With a lump in his throat and holding back a smile that would show mere redundancies, Erwin finally manages to speak:

"Ready?"

.

.

.

Levi nods, although he has no idea if he's telling the truth. It's that he no longer reasons. 

Desire, devotion, love mixed with lust, one element in perfect balance with the other; all of them are his reason instead.

Maybe he's not ready, or maybe he is; he has no idea.

But he feels ready.

Amid this beautiful mess, he feels that yeah, he is.

He glares at Erwin, meanwhile: he's spreading oil over his dick as he jerks himself off. When he spreads enough of it, he sets the bottle down on the nightstand. He massages his hole again; he does so with two fingers, which he slides in and out with unbearable, but necessary gentleness.

Levi narrows his eyes as another _ah_ escapes from his lips. When a bit of sanity returns to him, he sees how Erwin grabs his legs, pulls them up, and spreads them a little further apart to position himself between them. He sees how he looks up and stretches one arm out to hold the pillow Levi doesn't have under his head. He places it under his hip, which he lifts delicately, without the slightest effort, and smiles in agreement. Maybe, Levi says to himself, thanks to the pillow now it's easier than…

And it happens.

He cannot see, cannot string together coherent thoughts, but he notices how Erwin holds his dick so that he can bring the tip closer to his hole. Levi sees more the shaking of his body than the dick that is about to enter him. Holding his thighs, he tries to hunch enough to see it.

He doesn't see it; he feels it.

He tilts his head back as he feels the tip of the dick on his hole. He knows Erwin has a big one, but noticing the size difference in such a sensitive spot makes things more clear. 

How is he going to succeed in putting it in?

He breathes hard at the thought, nervous for reasons he doesn't have the time, will, or sanity to understand. One of Erwin's hands, the one with which he's not holding his dick, strokes his waist. 

"Breathe. I'll do my best not to make you hurt," he tells him with a tenderness that, despite how explicit the situation is, doesn't seem out of place, not between the two of them.

Something prickles in his tear ducts as he listens to him. 

"Levi…? Are you okay?"

Levi looks at him without understanding why he wants to burst into tears like a brat, perplexed as he realizes how badly he wants to.

It's just…

No one has ever cared so much about him before.

Not after his mom, no, no one.

But this is different.

People call him humanity's strongest soldier. Before being baptized in such an absurd way, in the Underground, he was the most dangerous criminal, the beast, the monster, a demon made of flesh and blood.

Apart from his mom, no one had ever cared for him like this, as if he was as fragile as a brat, like the one he was in his brothel days. But he's fragile, for fuck's sake; in a bed, about to being fucked, he's too fragile. There is no point in denying it anymore; acknowledging it is part of freeing himself from this torture.

He hates it so much. He hates being like this so much.

It burns!

But it's too late, he thinks as he opens his mouth to release the air he has been holding in for who knows how long, feeling in the middle of his throat the same prickling he feels in his tear ducts.

It's late; he feels no vertigo.

He inhales and exhales as best as he can, his pupils glued to Erwin's. He can no longer stop.

He cannot. He cannot hide this fragility anymore.

That Erwin doesn't want to hurt him although everyone has always assumed he's indestructible…

"I'm fine," he says, his voice raspy. "Go on, come on… I told you… I trust you…" 

The last comes out of him as nothing has ever come out of his throat.

With undeniable emotion.

As fragile as he is right now.

.

.

.

There it is that burning inside his nose, again. He wants to cry, and he's so turned on that it's absurd to want to do anything but have sex. With Levi, however, it seems like it's impossible to separate emotions from desire.

That is why this works.

He takes a deep breath with his eyes all over between Levi's legs. The size difference between their bodies looks especially impressive at a time like this. He knows Levi is strong, that he's also aroused, that he has stretched him well enough and is relaxed enough even though, just like him, he's still nervous; maybe it's silly to worry, but it's true, he doesn't want to hurt him. 

He wants to be at least a little worthy, enough to convince himself of the obvious, that if Levi wants to live this with him then Erwin deserves it.

Yes, he does.

So, with his mind focused on that and on what he's doing, Erwin presses harder against the entrance. He doesn't expect any of the things that happen as he does so, grunting as he grunts, hearing Levi doing the same.

As he begins to enter, as he feels Levi's heat surround the hardened tip of his cock, Erwin takes another breath. A shiver makes his hair stand on end in the best way possible. 

He looks at Levi, who looks at him at the same time. 

Levi nods as he squeezes more of his thighs to keep his legs in the perfect position, his chest rising and falling at a good pace thanks to the huge effort he's putting into his breathing. This signal tells Erwin, once again, how much they deserve this.

Because yes, they do. Even if the world is cruel, even if the truth is impossible to read, they…

Feeling another shiver, and the burning in his nose, and how his throat hurts due to the most transparent emotion, Erwin moves a little further.

.

.

.

It's overwhelming. 

Levi feels like a jerk for too many reasons, even for comparing himself to Farlan – it's unavoidable! It is due to how little experience he has, how different he feels, how awkward he is about this side of his life that he used to care so little about before this bastard showed up. 

Having Erwin inside is overwhelming physically as well as emotionally; getting to these instances was too hard for him precisely because of that, because Erwin means something that no one else has ever meant to him.

More than hurting, yeah, he's overwhelmed, crushed by the sensation that makes its way between his legs as Erwin slowly puts it in. It's the undeniable fact that he's putting it in, but it's so much more than that.

It's the thrill that makes him want to cry like he hasn't in years, cry like…

"Ah!" he exclaims as Erwin pushes further into him.

He struggles with his breathing; meanwhile, Erwin remains still. Eyes closed, Levi breathes as deeply as he can, as coherent as possible.

But fuck, it overwhelms him. He feels invaded in a way that makes him uncomfortable; mostly, it makes him feel this way, fragile, his safety in the hands of someone who is not him, something he can never get used to.

But this is Erwin. This is Erwin and that…

Erwin doesn't push a millimeter further but leans forward so that his forehead rests on Levi's. With eyes shining like two stars, he looks at him. On his mouth stands out the sweetest smile Levi has ever seen in his fucking life.

It's not bad to be like that, Levi tries to tell himself as he struggles to remember to breathe.

It's not wrong to leave his safety in the hands of someone like him. 

To fall, unchained at last, into wherever this situation takes him, feeling safe for knowing that Erwin will hold him if necessary.

Knowing that he'll hold Erwin even if hell is what awaits them in the end.

Erwin holds on to one of his thighs. With his other hand, he holds Levi's left cheek, covers it completely with his palm, draws cheesy caresses with his fingers. 

He looks at him, yeah, and his eyes are more than stars.

Levi drops the thigh Erwin is holding. He puts his hand on one of his cheeks, too.

"Okay…" he whispers.

.

.

.

And how moved he looks. And what an unprecedented depth of emotion these eyes show.

Is it as they say, that only who has seen the deepest sadness in the eye is capable of attaining the highest happiness? He swears that this proverb finds truth in these eyes.

Levi's emotional range, because of tragedies, also allows him this.

To feel more intensely.

To feel _more_.

He wants to tell him he loves him, but he understands it's in vain.

Levi knows how much he loves him.

Levi loves him, too.

Because he wouldn't let him see this emotion if he didn't.

Because he wouldn't be penetrating his body if Levi didn't love him in the same way.

Erwin frowns.

One movement, and it's done.

Finally

.

.

.

Finally, damn it.

.

.

.

How overwhelming it is for the two of them what comes with the ultimate movement, that feeling of melting into the heat that the other exudes, of connecting so intimately with their bodies.

Above all, through the vulnerability that they have no way of hiding.

As if they were penetrating each other's hearts, both giving and receiving at the same time.

They release a moan simultaneously. Erwin feels that his eyes are not enough, that he needs a thousand more pairs, not one, to capture everything he needs to keep in his memory.

Levi, for his part, feels like he cannot breathe.

Realizing that Levi is holding his breath, Erwin, putting his brow on his, strokes him with one hand, takes it down his cheek, down his neck, across his forehead.

Levi feels Erwin's thumb move under his left eyelid.

Is he…?

Yeah. 

Levi breathes as much as he can, once, twice, again, holds his breath, and releases it slowly. Considering how overwhelming it is to have Erwin inside in the physical aspect of the situation, that he cries one tear was expected.

But that Erwin wipes it away… 

Erwin doesn't know it, he's too focused on Levi's gaze, on how beautiful this vulnerability he shows is, but his eyes reflect the same thing that Levi feels. 

They share the same emotion, they do so because of how difficult it was for them to get here.

For how much they both deserve this reward after so much effort.

Erwin smiles, the burning inside his nose more unbearable than ever; Levi imitates him without realizing it. Until the surprise he reads in the blue he sees tells him that it's true, that the pain he feels at the edges of his lips is from the slight, yet real, smile his mouth shows.

Erwin rubs his nose against Levi's, he does so moving his face to one side, to the other, delighted by the magic, by the emotion. 

"Cheesy…" Levi whispers, suffocated by how hard it's to breathe.

He's _very_ naked. Although it's weird to think of it that way, it's that unbearable.

But Erwin, happy to be able to do this, to be here with him, makes it all easier for him by stroking his lower lip with his thumb.

"I didn't say anything…" Erwin says holding back a laugh.

How unreal it is, wanting to laugh while penetrating another person. 

How natural it is, too.

"You have a dreamy brat look on your eyes, I know you're having cheesy thoughts…" Levi states without being able to catch even an ounce of air.

Erwin laughs. Tired, Levi rests his head on the pillow. Erwin's thumb insists as it wanders across his lower lip.

Levi thinks about saying something.

He cannot.

His thumb invites him to open his mouth a little wider. Levi, with narrowed eyes and the badly dried tear cooling his skin, accepts to do it.

Erwin plunges his mouth into his, deepens the kiss without talking around, does it with his tongue, which he moves in circles around Levi's, who holds back more moans as he squeezes his eyes shut.

Erwin's hips thrust for the first time.

Levi feels it in detail, how the cock slides out slowly, to enter again with a little more urgency, but also with certain prudence expressed by the softness of the movement. He opens his mouth, also his eyes as he feels Erwin filling him.

They look at each other, incredulous because of how intense the sensation of melting into each other is, and they kiss at the same moment when Erwin thrusts again.

Two moans echo inside their mouths, quivering their untied tongues. The hip thrusts again, and again, and again. 

Erwin touches something inside him, the prostate, that magic spot that cuts him, that takes him to another reality, that upside-down world in which nothing outside of them seems to make sense; Levi releases Erwin's mouth, and tilting his face to one side he shouts nonsense, surely an ugly word. Erwin's lips, however, insist by burying themselves in his neck as his hips continue to move back and forth.

It's wonderful. To penetrate Levi physically, to let Levi penetrate his heart by giving him this trust. It's a dream in which he cannot focus.

Because he doesn't understand.

Until a scream gets stuck in his throat and an aching urgency settles between his legs, that seeing himself too close to the edge of that abyss called bliss.

"Le…" he sighs against his neck. He touches Levi's chest and strokes it with a hand wide open over the skin. 

"Fuck, I'm fine…" Levi murmurs as he keeps trying to take a deep breath, something that, at times, feels more impossible than reaching the edges of the world. "You can keep sticking it in…"

Erwin chuckles against his collarbone.

He needs a moment. Years without penetrating another body, whole years; he's so turned on it's like he's going to explode just for breathing. 

He was so focused on the joy, on the excitement, on Levi and his beauty and the warmth of his body, that he didn't realize he was about to come too quickly. 

Unbelievable. Erwin bursts out laughing against Levi's shoulder.

Levi doesn't understand why Erwin laughs like that.

Although he doesn't care either.

"Cheesy old man, you're too creepy. Laughing like that while you're sticking it in me…"

Erwin rubs his forehead against Levi's, hugging him as if he was the most precious treasure he had.

He is.

"I know…" Erwin searches for all the air he needs; he can't lose focus like this. Though it also thrills him; laughing like this is moving, it is in the middle of this scene. 

For Levi and for what it means to be the one sharing this with him, this is fine. 

Being himself and not holding back a laugh is fine.

He rests his hands on each side of Levi's waist, who, perhaps understanding or perhaps out of instinct, holds his thighs again. Erwin settles on top of him; serious, he kisses him on the lips.

As he kisses him, he begins to thrust once more.

Levi breathes into the kiss even if it's useless. It's suffocating him, the kiss does it, each thrust does it. 

He clings to Erwin's shoulders, pulls him closer to him, turns his face to the left.

Erwin's lips sink into his neck, kissing him, nibbling him as his hips move slowly, gently, but with ruthless resolve.

What does he feel?

He looks at the ceiling, and only when his pupils are glued to it, he hears carefully the grunts Erwin holds back against his neck. He perceives, moreover, how Erwin's breath burns his skin. Erwin's hair tickles his cheek; his throat is tight, dry, thirsty.

Erwin's hips are too gentle; every time he penetrates him, he does so with the utmost care, slides in gently until he fills him with himself. The sensation that overwhelms him is not only that of the flesh exceeding him; it's the sensitivity that makes him shiver with a cold he doesn't feel. It's how this internal caress makes all his skin fragile, not only inside, but also outside.

Each thrust makes his skin thinner. It melts it, shapes it as it pleases, sends shivers through every sensitive spot on his body. That is why he feels the tips of his fingers numb, as much as the thighs between which he wraps this huge, strong body that penetrates him. 

That is why he can no longer breathe and does so only by inertia.

Contemplating the dark ceiling with narrowed eyes, listening to how the whimpers turn into moans every time Erwin fills him, the sensitivity of his skin becomes unbearable, as much as the softness and slowness of the hips that thrust him with more love than desire.

Not knowing the one who does it, because he doesn't know himself well enough in this kind of circumstances, Levi hugs Erwin's neck and also his waist, which he wraps with his legs.

"Faster…" he asks as he arches his back, as he turns from looking at the ceiling to the moon that shines behind them.

The request is like a virus; it infects Erwin with longings more animal than human, or maybe the most human longings there are, and therefore real, and therefore appropriate for this bed shared with this person that is so irreplaceable.

He tightens the sheets on either side of Levi's waist; without allowing Levi to lean forward, taking advantage of the fantastic angle at which his body is positioned, Erwin pulls out slowly, very slowly, so much so that Levi seems to agonize beneath him.

Then, even though his arms are shaking, Erwin gasps and pushes himself forward. He thrusts fast and hard.

Levi squirms as he shouts a _yeah_ that comes more from his heart than his throat.

Erwin's forehead is covered in sweat. Clenching his teeth tighter, he repeats the motion. When he does so, Levi shouts one more _yeah_ without letting go of his neck, but rather clutching his hands more tightly. His whole body accompanies the movement of Erwin's thrusting, sinks on the bed, and waits, trembling. His legs restlessly on either side of his hips, no longer around his waist.

Erwin does it one more time, pulls out, thrusts; Levi's eyes, always closed, open. The pupils denote the most beautiful agony Erwin has ever seen.

"More…" Levi begs, unable to understand anything but this, the nakedness they share, Erwin's eyes, the sensitivity of his skin in contact with a reality he cannot stand, but needs to perceive with all his senses at once.

Delighted, Erwin obeys. He thrusts, and thrusts again, and emphasizes each thrust of his hips with the one he repeats with his whole body, which jumps on Levi, and crushes him, and burns him, every time he goes too far.

A thin, sloppy whimper is all that comes out of Levi. Inside, Erwin touches every nerve ending, all at once, all at the right time, as if Erwin wakes them up by rubbing them. It's as if he dissolves against him.

Erwin feels the same as he enters his body.

Looking at each other, something feels sacred; it's like reaching a new kind of understanding. It's a mute promise made with dilated pupils, one body banging the other in perfect pace. It's knowing that this isn't just fucking.

It's more.

And it hurts.

But it's more, and it hurts because they feel it, and the meaning of each concept finds the precise explanation in each other's eyes, and it's special because yes, maybe it's true what they say. Unfortunately, maybe it is.

That only those who have looked the deepest sadness in the eye have the potential to reach another level of happiness.

That is the idea that floats like a feather between their pupils, the intangible concept, the empty definition; there are no words that can describe it, but they know it. That is why this is so special, these bodies dissolving, going soft as they rock first gently and then roughly, two natural forces colliding, merging as they do so, _finally_ meeting.

On the outside, the image is not suggestive, but explicit. It's two naked men fucking hard and fast, screaming, squeezing each other as they scream, and with the creaking of the bed, and the banging of the headboard against the wall, and the slaps that echo as the groin of one impacts against the buttocks of the other musicalizing the fuck, the voice of the one who receives screaming during the choruses.

But that is not what matters to them; they have no other pair of eyes, and the reality around them has no way of reading what is going on between their bodies.

It's eyes looking at eyes as bodies feel the heat rising, and rising, and rising, squeezing together to keep from collapsing because of the lacerating emotion tearing through their skin.

It's Erwin looking at Levi and feeling that burning inside his nose, that need to burst into tears like a child.

It's Levi feeling his tear ducts melt not only because of how overwhelming it still is to have Erwin inside but mostly because of this, to be able to look at him, to feel so devoted to this person, to feel happy that he exists, that he's looking at _him_.

He kisses him, desperate to stop feeling so naked. Erwin responds between gasps haunted by this tension that runs through him in a constant tingling that begins to drive him crazy. 

It's too beautiful. Levi, the moon.

Everything is beautiful.

Even him.

He holds back his hips to give himself a moment to kiss Levi. He kisses him with the same care Levi does, using his lips more than his tongue. They cling to each other as the bed finally gets quiet. Wetness distracts him; it's the precum coming from Levi, the inevitable anticipations of the end in the form of whitish droplets that mix with the sweat covering each belly.

He stops kissing him; looking at Levi beneath him, seeing how immaculate the moonlight looks on his wonderful face, he becomes addicted.

He needs that.

That light on him, beautified by touching him.

Not the other way around.

One last kiss; Erwin stops penetrating Levi to kneel between his legs. He holds out his hands; Levi frowns. His whole body shakes from longing, no longer from vertigo. It's because of the absence that, so close to the end, ends up resembling a punishment.

He holds Erwin's hands. Obeys their every symbolic command as he kneels with his back to him, his legs between his. The tension that has taken hold of his body makes him fall against the chest that is now behind him, not in front of him. 

Erwin wraps his arms around his waist. He spreads his knees apart and pulls Levi’s knees together. His left hand goes up to his chest; his right, down between his legs, though not before dragging Levi's same hand with it. 

Erwin, looking at everything over Levi's right shoulder, urges him to hold his erection.

"Touch yourself, please…" he whispers in his ear.

The request is like an order; it's obscene to hear Erwin say something like that to him considering he's his superior out there.

It's just that that out there is so far away, and yet it turns him on to think that it's close, that it's here and now even if it's not.

But he's not a pig for getting horny, he swears to himself as he touches between his legs with more enthusiasm than he used to when he did it alone, hating himself for needing it, for wanting this bastard so badly. He's also not a pig for sharing it with him, for feeling emotional.

"Very good…" Erwin tells him as he strokes his entrance with the tip of his cock.

Something stops him as he gets ready to penetrate; Levi is smiling, again. Slightly, but he's doing it. As if he likes Erwin's encouragement.

He finds the idea quite kinky, kinky in a novel way in such an emotionally filled context.

They are not pigs, Erwin tells himself.

Just humans.

"Very, very good…" he whispers again as he enters. Levi breathes with his mouth agape, smirks at times, masturbates faster and faster. "That is it…"

He likes to be encouraged.

To be reminded that everything he's going through is okay.

He grunts against Levi's shoulder as he sinks inside him. He shudders, knowing he's not going to last much longer without a release from all this wonderful tension that is making him desperate, and spreading his knees wide apart he begins to penetrate as he moves his hips up, down, his hands on Levi's waist taking care to keep the angle just right.

"Good, very good…" he gasps against Levi's ear, who is undone by a powerful shudder that shatters his back into a thousand pieces, before increasing speed dramatically.

"Ah…!" Levi cries as he does so. His right hand, which is urged, inspired, masturbates as fast as he can; his hips seek Erwin's, thrusting against him; each impact is a slap, sounds to the beat of the creaking bed. 

Levi opens his eyes, whimpering: the moon looks like an eye that never tires of looking at them, that is aroused together with both of them, that asks to look at them in exchange for keeping this important secret.

That allows them to look at each other in exchange. 

With his left hand, while his right hand masturbates frantically, Levi squeezes one of Erwin's buttocks with his fingers, which he sinks into the flesh so deep, but so deep, that it makes him groan. Erwin holds his hips tighter as he whispers words of encouragement in half.

Levi can only see the moon, that light that stares at them and enjoys along with them both; Erwin can only look at Levi, the perfect image of this Levi made of ice melting, boiling against him, blurring the edges of his body from the voluptuous heat he emanates.

"Fuck…!" Levi shouts just before Erwin grabs his face with one hand to tilt it towards him.

The obscene sound of their hips banging in pace with the creaking of the bed, the increasingly breathless, exalted gasps of both of them; Levi perceives only that of the world, that and Erwin, Erwin's eyes staring at him as he thrusts into him. The humanity screaming, free, inside the eyes. 

"What do you feel…?" Erwin asks.

Levi opens his eyes as wide as he can. Because he's moaning, whimpering, panting against Erwin's mouth, but despite his hand keeps jerking off, he does so at an irregular pace. Because he's shaking as at the beginning, overwhelmed by this overdose of emotions fused with sensations.

What does he feel? Erwin asks him that for such fucking obvious reasons. So that he can focus on the pleasure, so that he won't be overwhelmed by the intensity of what is happening and the meaning it will have from today on in his life.

Because he'll never be the same again.

Because Erwin won't be able to either.

Levi presses his brow against Erwin's, as Erwin whispers more and more words of encouragement even if he's unable to properly articulate the words; Levi is trying to understand what he's feeling amid this crazy, transcendental scene, overwhelming in how intense and beautiful and cruel it is.

It's as if Erwin is growing inside him; each time he breaks through his insides, it's as if it's bigger than the last one. He feels the throbbing, twitching of his dick inside him, as well as the wetness of the oil and the precum warming his inner walls even more. He feels the sensitive skin, that of his whole body, vulnerable even to the air he no longer breathes. He feels that, a cursed vulnerability, that kind of helplessness that doesn't frustrate him, because he chose it.

A vulnerability that he's able to love here, like this, together with him.

He feels the heat that unleashes his pleasure thanks to the constant stimulation, he feels it mixed with this, with how much it thrills him that the one penetrating him is Erwin. 

It's the intimacy they share what he feels filling him, breaking him, rebuilding him before the eyes of the world. 

But he also feels the tension he so badly needs to release.

"Come on…" Erwin encourages him as he smiles at him. "Almost there, you can do it…"

If Erwin says he can, then yeah, he can.

Because if Erwin believes in him, then Levi can do _anything_.

Holding his buttock and not even blinking at the perfect blue staring at him, the one before which he no longer feels ashamed to be in the flesh rather than naked, Levi frowns and clenches his teeth. He jerks off, breathing short and fast, his hips rocking against Erwin. It's as if a flame of fire ignites beneath his feet, and rises, and rises, as his hand is speeding up, and Erwin fills him with quick, strong, accurate, relentless thrusts. 

When the flame reaches his hand, all the tension that numbs his body finds the long-sought relief. 

And he flies.

He comes against his belly, feeling a trickle of drool fall from his mouth, his damp forehead under his disheveled bangs. Everything around him, himself and Erwin as well, is wet and boils against him.

He screams; in front of his wild eyes, Erwin's pupils become so big that they plunge him into complete darkness, one that glows. As he collapses back against the chest, one arm is around his waist and the other remains on the side of his hip.

"Can I…?" Erwin asks, who is shaking as much as he is, as on edge as he was until a moment ago.

Levi fights against his own eyes. When he manages to focus on Erwin, he sees agony painted in the pupils.

"Yeah…" he says as best he can, understanding that Erwin is asking for permission to come inside him.

Erwin smiles and hugs him very, very tightly as he lays his jaw on his shoulder. Eyes closed, he focuses before Levi's fervent gaze, or rather what is left of him.

Because yes, Erwin needs to focus to keep this memory as clear as possible in his memory. He needs to remember this heat that squeezes him in constant friction against him, against the erection that throbs, and grows, and burns when the explosion comes, and with it the release that brings only a transcendental, overwhelming bliss.

Extraordinary.

He moans much louder than he remembers needing to ever do, melting body and soul against and into Levi's body, who holds him by the hip with both hands to bear his weight.

Levi fails to remember anything, to regret anything. He limits himself to bear the weight, to feel the shivering accompanying the wet heat that fills him, to stare at Erwin's face and memorize every detail of this pleasure that decorates his sweet agony at last defeated.

He only limits himself to feel, between his shoulder blades, Erwin's heartbeats as alive as ever, at the same pace as his.

They are alive.

Naked.

They have each other.

Forever, they have each other.

The remaining traces of semen, of sweat, of spit, don't matter; before each other's eyes, they look immaculate. Thanks to the other, to trust, and also to the effort that each one has put in for this, to undress like this, to allow themselves to be human and to be full, happy, even if out there cruelty wins against beauty again and again.

They exist, and between the two of them, there is a place where nothing and no one is allowed to enter.

A world owned by the two of them, perfect.

To their measure.

They look at each other, one forehead against the other, two hands on a pair of buttocks, the other two against a shaking chest. The moon allows them to look at each other during this unforgettable instant of their lives.

They won.

To the cruelty of this world.

Inside this room.

In their world.

They won.

.

.

.

Levi took his time to clean himself up. When he came out of the bathroom, however, even though he had wiped the sweat and semen from his body, he looked very tired. That is why, when he returns to the room after freshening up with a wet towel, Erwin is surprised to find Levi awake. He's sitting next to the nightstand; the moon illuminates the right side of his body, draws his muscles on the dark canvas the room has become. 

Yet another image. 

A perfect one.

He approaches him with a smile on his lips. Sitting on his left, he kisses his shoulder.

He thinks about saying something like _thank you for letting me share something like this with you_ ; also, he considers asking him how he's feeling, if he's in pain or if he was too rough with him. But no, he doesn't say anything; he just stares at Levi's knees, one lit up, the other caught in the shadows, and looks at every detail, every mole, every body hair, every scar.

He doesn't want to forget a single detail.

Not one, no.

"Let's sleep," Levi says in a whisper.

"Sure," Erwin replies in the same volume of voice.

They lie as they did at the beginning. The moon, though weakened by the advancing dawn, illuminates them as they look at each other, facing each other, lying sideways on the bed. They are sharing a pillow. Erwin has his head sunk on the right side; Levi, on the left side.

.

.

.

He feels that he must say something, that it's urgent. He feels that this silence is no longer an option.

Not after all Erwin has done for him not only this night, that is as fleeting as it's eternal, but since the day he met him.

He has given him a purpose, a noble cause in which to employ his innate violence. He has given him respect, pleasure, love.

Trust. 

Erwin Smith changed his life; he has a _thank you_ to say to him. 

He doesn't get to say it.

Erwin smiles at him; it's as if he's reading his gaze. Maybe he is. Because it's easy for Levi to get lost there, in his eyes, to look at him and get lost in the color.

In his life, that life that seems to shine differently when the eyes look at him.

Maybe, he says to himself, it's the same for Erwin. He doesn't want to think about it in detail, it's not his style, but maybe…

Maybe Erwin's eyes are catching the same kind of life in his, maybe they're reading him, and maybe reading him helps Erwin to know that Levi, yeah, is saying _thank you_.

.

.

.

Because it cannot be anything else.

This emotion he captures from Levi just screams gratitude.

To him. Someone to whom, even though it's so hard for him to believe he deserves it, he has no trouble saying that he does to himself.

That infinite is their trust, this perfect circle that traps them in the same universe that belongs only to the two of them, a bubble in which violence, guilt, titans, nothing but them exists.

It's what they created together, their masterpiece.

Their indestructible bond.

"Good night, Erwin," Levi whispers with apparent apathy.

"You mean _see you in a couple of hours_ _from now_ ," he replies with a smile on his lips.

Levi laughs without showing any smile at all. But yes, his laugh echoes throughout the room.

"Whatever…" he whispers, and he moves closer to him like a cat seeking warmth, and Erwin hugs him when Levi's breath gives him goosebumps all over the hairs on his chest as it collides against him.

When he's alone with Levi, Erwin thinks before he falls asleep, that is what happens, yes.

He's free.

He's at peace.

They both are. Despite being naked, with no more ice around them.

They are together in the bubble, and in the bubble peace is the wall that protects them from the cruelty of this world full of mysteries to be discovered.

What remains for them is to strengthen themselves and each other inside it.

Everything to keep fighting, to move forward.

To never give up.

.

.

.

PART ONE — THE END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi. First of all, THANK YOU for reaching this final note.
> 
> If you don't want to read it, that's fine, don't worry. It's not an obligation, as I always say, but rather complementary info.  
> Anyway, let me be honest for a second, please:
> 
> This chapter was really hard for me for many reasons that I couldn't explain to you. First because they are very personal and therefore irrelevant in this context. 
> 
> But mostly because I got VERY emotional while writing it. I got very, very emotional, and partly I feel very silly for doing so. 
> 
> I feel ashamed.
> 
> I know it's just a fic. But for me writing is always going to be what makes me happiest in the world, my fulfillment, the balance that allows me to exist with joy, and I was so happy together with the two of them while writing this that I can't help but be so happy for them.
> 
> It's just beyond me.
> 
> As absurd as it sounds, one of the things that makes me happiest about writing is that point at which I feel like I'm not carrying the characters, but rather they're carrying me. It's a kind of vertigo, not knowing where we're going, not knowing what's going to happen, but trusting that every single thing that happens feels natural to them and to me as I write it. 
> 
> I had a hard time writing it because sex is always difficult to write about, I think, because of how intimate and personal it is as a human experience. Also, it had to be something appropriate. It had to happen the way the characters asked for it to happen.
> 
> I'm very sorry if this chapter disappoints anyone. What moves me about writing a sex scene is to feel it as I write it, to be moved by it, and that's what I tried to write, what I felt and what moved me to get to this moment in the characters' relationship.
> 
> I left all my heart. I tried very hard. I hope you like it. ♥
> 
> Nothing would make me happier than that. :')
> 
> I understood, when writing it, that one part of the fic ended here, so I'm going to split the fic into three parts and not two as I had originally planned. But it's not that I'm going to publish a sequel or anything; I'm just going to start the next chapter with a "Part II" and a small introduction, similar to the introduction of Part I in the first chapter of the fic.
> 
> And I'm going to continue with the current numeration. That is to say, the next chapter is XXXI. It's not perfect, but in AO3 it is what I find most comfortable.
> 
> From the next chapter on, we'll go back to the average word count of 4/5 thousand words. That will allow me to move forward and get to the third part of the fic soon. Also, I prefer to extend only when I need to go deeper into some emotional aspect that I couldn't deal with in the way I consider adequate unless I do. 
> 
> I only had this chapter pending from the first part, that's why it took me so long to upload it (apologies for that); I already wrote half of the second part, so updates shouldn't be so delayed. ♥️
> 
> These last five chapters were VERY intense for me, more on pandemic, more with my personal problems and things that have happened to me. I'm very sensitive. I need to relax a bit and get into other aspects of the plot now that their trust is at the point I wanted to get to so I can progress with the rest.
> 
> But their relationship is still going to be at the heart of everything, I can assure you that right now. ♥️ The idea was to settle the trust between them; now, at this point in their bond, things can only get even more extraordinary.
> 
> Just like in canon, or so I hope. :')
> 
> About the arcs, with this chapter the Mitras arc (?) ended. Now follows the arc of the next expedition, which is going to take the whole Part II of the fic.
> 
> Thanks for joining me in this journey! This fic saved my 2020, writing it took care of my heart and gave me joy even in the hardest days. It made me a little bit stronger. I'm forever grateful, both to the fic for letting me write it and to you, always to you, for going through it with me.
> 
> I will never forget it. 
> 
> Thank you all for reading! ♥️


	31. XXXI

Children are just that, children. As such, they have no point of view.

They have not lived long enough to build one.

The fact is that points of view are positions taken in the face of life. Sometimes by choice; sometimes by mere imposition. 

It's to look at a column from a certain angle, to do so because one considers that it's the right one, that it's the angle that allows one to appreciate the column as the column _is_. 

When, in fact, it's just that, an angle.

Not the truth.

All truth is interpretation; to contemplate the whole truth, it's not enough to stop at an angle of the column.

You have to walk around it. You have to stop at every point.

You have to consider all the points as valid.

Even if they are not.

Even if they cannot be valid for our biased eyes.

That is why these children, who run, who cry while they run, don't consider the angle from which they see as incorrect.

Because they are not experienced enough to consider others.

To know that the column, in fact, _exists_.

They only do what adults, those who have imposed their point of view on them, believe is right for their interests.

To end with the unworthy.

To grab their paradise.

To do _justice_.

.

.

.

PART TWO

**XXXI**

—January 29, 845—

**H** e closes his eyes, and doing so allows him to return to the past. It’s just that a part of him doesn't want to be in this carriage, but far, far away.

In that room, in front of that window, in front of that Erwin as naked as he was, entering and pulling out of his body.

But he cannot, he knows it, and the part of him that fights and protects, that part of him that sometimes feels so innate, doesn't want him to. 

Yet that one inside the ice, this stoicism that hides him from the world and the thousand layers of shit he throws at it every day to make sure it protects him, wants to go back to the only place in which he feels comfortable inside these walls.

Naked with Erwin. Naked both of them. 

But here they are, yeah. Well-dressed, uniformed, ready to return to the routine inside the headquarters.

He cannot keep his eyes closed forever.

"Everything went better than expected…" Erwin whispers after checking how close they are to the barracks, the blue of his eyes lost in what the window shows him. "Thank you for your professionalism, Levi; your presence has contributed incalculably to our cause."

He doesn't turn to him as he tells him that; the blue remains there, glued to the glass, to what lies beyond it.

Beyond everything.

"It's pathetic that you say I was professional when we fucked two nights in a row."

He hears Erwin's laugh and doesn't show how much he enjoys it, today more than ever, because today means more than ever considering the circumstances, the events he still hasn't finished assimilating.

"I'm speaking as your squad leader," Erwin exclaims.

"I see…"

Very well.

Levi's arms mimic his legs as they cross. He keeps his eyes open, determined to stay in this reality. 

To be not the one who sleeps with Erwin Smith, but the one who is his subordinate in the Survey Corps.

"Now what will you get to do?" he asks.

"Reports. I got ahead on work, but I'll be stuck in Keith's office for a while. Also, we have to continue with the paperwork related to his resignation."

"Ah…"

"Leaving the bubble is getting a little difficult for me." Erwin holds one of his knees. Levi looks at the hand; he secretly agrees with him. "If I'm reckless at some point, please let me know."

The hand leaves him. Levi looks at Erwin out of the corner of his eye. 

Erwin has no right to look at him like that, not now, not like that child that he is at some corner of his being.

"I will," he promises.

They don't keep talking; the carriage slows down before the entrance to the barracks, and all that follows is getting out, taking the bags, paying the driver, and so on. Erwin asks Levi if it’s right to let him take care of his bags; Levi tells him it would be better that way. He sees him leave later, carrying the briefcase in which he has some very important documentation.

When he's left alone, Levi finally understands. It’s time to say goodbye to the bubble. Perhaps it may take years before they can lock themselves in one as perfect as that one again.

Maybe they will die before that happens.

"Levi!" he hears.

"Four eyes," he replies. "Why the fuck are you here and not in your filthy-" He falls silent when he feels how Hanji, who is at his back, squeezes one of his shoulders and scratches his hair. Then, he hears a laugh.

"If you ever scratch my head as if I was a brat again, I'll throw you into a horde of abnormal titans."

"I'd love to! I mean, please, yeah!" They finally appear before him; Hanji is too smiling to his liking. "Is the rumor true?"

Levi doesn't betray a single emotion. Internally, a part of him writhes.

"What are you talking about?"

"They say you two got a hell of a lot more money than estimated, and that it was thanks to you. Didn't you read the papers? Mitras' highest society doesn't stop talking about you!"

"Huh?"

Erwin mentioned something about it the morning after the gala, while they were having breakfast. He told him that the headlines were only talking about him, about the mystery surrounding that stoic-face soldier of unparalleled talent whose presence had got the Survey Corps a very high sum of money from the nobility. Levi paid little attention to him.

He didn't care about that, or the pigs, or the impressions, or anything to do with that pigsty; he cared about what it meant to the corps and Erwin, nothing else.

He cared about knowing the truth, above all, that the one who got that money was Erwin, not him; he was just another pawn in the masterful play.

"So did you read nothing?!" Hanji asks. 

"I'm not for that."

"But…!"

"I don't care about gossip. I have to take this…" Determined to leave and relieved to know that the rumors are those and not ones related to the true nature of his relationship with Erwin, Levi bends down to hold the bags.

"Oh! Let me call… There they are!" Hanji raises their arms and waves them. "Moblit! Mike! Let's give Levi a hand!"

Levi watches as the two of them approach, welcoming him and offering along with Hanji to carry some of the bags. He's not comfortable with the idea. He doesn't like anyone touching his things.

Much less anyone touching Erwin's things.

"I can do this on my own, Thank you, anyways. As soon as I'm done unpacking I'll come to train."

"You have just arrived, shouldn't you get some rest?" Moblit asks with the sincerest kindness.

He should, indeed. But he has hands and legs and also a very important mission ahead of him. 

"Another day…"

As he looks up to make his way inside the barracks, he and Mike exchange glances. In front of him, Mike stares at him with explicit seriousness.

He doesn't know Mike very well, although he cannot say he dislikes him. He didn't hold him in high esteem at first, impossible after he plunged his face into the mud of the Underground when he handcuffed him, but over time he could only feel respect for him. 

His technique is extraordinary, his strength is imposing, his leadership skills are flawless. He's the best soldier he has ever seen in the corps, no one compares to him.

Besides, Erwin trusts him. 

There must be a reason for that.

Although he doesn't deal with him that much, he thinks he knows Mike is quiet and a little creepy when it comes to smells; he has seen him smile after smelling recruits too many times to consider him sane. He's nuts, no doubt about it, but Mike never shows the seriousness with which he handles his performance out there in such casual situations.

Why the fuck is he looking at him like that?

He lets the moment pass and says goodbye to the three of them. He heads towards Erwin's room without looking back, and when he gets there he uses the key Erwin handed him when they arrived at the barracks. After he gets in, he leaves Erwin's bags next to the door.

He clenches his teeth at the sight of the dirt, but Erwin's voice speaks too loudly inside his head; Levi promised him that he would let him know of any recklessness.

Both must behave.

He cannot clean without opening the window; he cannot open the window and risk being seen by the recruits training just below it; he cannot start cleaning now. It's not his duty; it's Erwin's, it's his room.

He has to go, he knows. As much as he doesn't like the dirt surrounding Erwin, he has to back off and let him mind his own business.

Things have changed, they have inside and outside their relationship. They need to be more cautious than ever.

But no, he doesn't like the idea of stopping cleaning the spaces Erwin occupies.

He takes a deep breath, and squeezing the straps of his bags, he leaves with them towards his room, but not before locking the door.

This is wise, yeah.

Arriving at his room, he's relieved to see that Gunther has kept his promise to sweep every morning, noon, and night. One can tell he has kept the room very clean. Thanking him mentally, he unpacks, arranges his belongings in their respective places, sweeps up as quickly as he can, and, with nothing else to do, sits down on the edge of his bed. To his left, he watches the light coming in through the window; the sun is going down.

He's tired.

Erwin told him that he was allowed to rest today, that he could take the rest of the day off. Levi replied that he wouldn't.

Erwin urged him to do so.

Maybe…

He looks at the window again: the sun is going down fast.

It's pointless. Today he can afford this indulgence.

After taking off his boots and jacket, he lies down on the bed. On his side, he hugs his legs as he bends them; when he does so, the echoes return and drag him back into the bubble.

He awoke at seven in the morning; he had slept for only an hour. He was pressed against Erwin's back, which radiated the heat of ten stoves, or so it seemed to him as he felt it against him. He tried to get up, but as he moved a little away from Erwin's body the cold became unbearable.

He pressed himself tighter against him knowing he was behaving like an idiot. 

Erwin woke up, rolled over, and looked at him, sleepy.

"Good morning…" he said. 

He couldn't control himself; Levi kissed him with explicit passion as he clung to his neck.

"I haven't brushed my teeth…" Erwin whispered to him, perhaps ashamed of not being clean enough. He wasn't, no lie about it, but…

"You have bad breath, smells like a dick, but I don't give a damn…"

Incredibly, he wasn't lying.

Minutes later, with the first rays of sunlight hitting the sheets, Erwin was fucking him slowly, very slowly. Levi, face, knees, and hands over the bed, hips obscenely raised in front of Erwin, was receiving him as if he was the pure air that is only outside the walls.

Delighted.

Even though he was shaking, and the chain was trying to control him, and he was still gasping for air because of how hard it continued to be for him to get carried away, he was receiving him delightedly. His mind and emotions were calm water thanks to the care, respect, and encouragement Erwin gave him every second. Whenever he needed to slow down, Erwin slowed down; whenever he needed to keep going, Erwin kept going. He never failed to encourage him at any time, too.

How overwhelming to be able to let himself fall like that despite so much vertigo.

Like when he fights, to let himself fall and feel free in doing so. 

Towards the end, face down on the bed, feeling the full weight of Erwin's hips on him, Levi, holding on to the sheets and focusing on his breathing, came upon their reflection in the standing mirror to his left. He could only see himself over his shoulders; above him, blond hair appeared with each thrust.

He never thought he'd find so much beauty in something so dirty.

It made him shake more, but it also thrilled him to the core. 

How beautiful sex could be.

At the end of the day, night came again, and Levi returned to Erwin's room. They fucked only once, trying not to be overheard by the recruits sleeping two floors below. 

Again, Levi sought himself in the reflection of that standing mirror as he tried to keep his breathing in order. 

The image was even more beautiful than in the morning.

Perhaps, that reinterpretation of the image along with his effort and Erwin's constant concern…

"You like to look at yourself…" Erwin said to him after the last fuck, just before Levi returned to his room to continue to keep up appearances. They were naked, tangled in the middle of the bed, and Erwin was combing his hair with his fingers.

"Does it bother you?" he replied. He wasn't asking as if he cared; he was asking out of mere curiosity.

Also to avoid answering him that yeah, he loved it.

"No, on the contrary. I like it when you look at yourself. It's… useful, I suppose."

Useful? It was more like a perversion, a need to spy on himself to get to know this side of his being that appeared so late in his life. 

"We should look at each other." He didn't even realize what he said or the implications. Levi just said it, free to say whatever he wanted in front of Erwin, someone from whom he had no way to hide things anymore.

Because it was his choice.

"We should…"

They did it fast, urgently, Erwin on top of him, who held his thighs apart with his arms grabbing the sheets on either side of his waist. They looked at themselves unblinkingly as they fucked, looked at the image of the two of them in the mirror. Moans tried to escape from their mouths as the mirror showed their bodies sideways, one on top of the other, deeply united.

It was about redefining the concept behind that image. It was to believe that yeah, sex could be beautiful when it happened between equals, in mutual agreement, without unequal roles, two bodies enjoying the heat, and nothing else.

Together.

Two bodies enjoying, in fact, much more than that.

He has to stop thinking about that image; he cannot. He doesn't feel horny, he's not remembering it out of mere horniness. In part maybe he is, but the truth behind this need to return to the bubble has to do with something else.

Intimacy itself.

They didn't say it, they are not that cheesy and they're too tired, but they know that this trust didn't come out of anywhere, but out of what they feel for each other. 

They cannot dream of things an ordinary couple would dream of; they cannot _be_ a conventional couple, but they can have each other even though everything is going to hell around them.

This is the path they chose. The only way to dream of something better is to defeat all the titans, kill them until there are none left. 

They cannot do much more than that; they can accompany each other on the road that leads them to the same thing.

Freedom or death.

Realizing that he doesn't know how to rest, that it's not his thing, Levi gets up, puts on his boots and jacket, and goes to the mess hall, ready to get water for tea and, with that, getting distracted from everything.

Especially from that image that haunts him with his full consent.

"Levi! You're back," he hears to the right of the mess hall door. It's Ilse, who is sitting alone at a table with a book and a notebook before her. In her hands, she holds a pencil. "Congratulations on the success of the meetings! Everyone is talking about you…"

Levi approaches Ilse. 

"So I hear," he replies with genuine indifference not towards Ilse, but the topic. He doesn't give a shit if they talk about him. "How are things around here, Freckles?"

He sits down next to her and crosses his legs. Ilse, very smiling even if she seems somewhat shy as usual, tells him some details of the last few days in the barracks. Among other things, she tells him that Gunther took care of organizing the cleaning, that she lent a hand among the volunteers, that this and that…

Ilse is a very good girl. He has seen her train but hasn't paid her enough attention. Maybe, he thinks as he talks to her, he could consider her for his future squad. Because he doesn't know if she has the skills he aspires to find in his future subordinates, but he does feel he can trust her. Ilse gives him a good feeling.

That is important. It always will be.

"He's been partying for days and now he takes a chance and starts flirting with the girl he likes in front of everyone?" he hears behind Ilse's voice as she tells him about the book she was reading, one about medicine.

Both turn towards the voice. The one who spoke is a blond guy with freckles similar to Ilse's. If Levi remembers correctly, he shares the squad with Gunther. 

He looks sideways at the two of them, and is surrounded by a short red-haired guy with teeth too big for his mouth, and also another one with brown hair and ugly bangs in front of his face, one that Levi doesn't know how it allows him to see considering how long it is. 

There is nothing friendly, nice about their behavior.

"Privileges of being Erwin Smith's maid," the redhead replies. "Cleaning all the dirt he leaves on the floor with every fucking step he takes allows you to…"

"Listen to me, squirrel-face," Levi says as he stands up, referring to the redhead. Instantly, he feels one of Ilse's hands clinging to his right arm, tugging on it so maybe he doesn't get involved in a fight. "I can tell you don't shit much; people who shit regularly don't go around behaving like assholes full of shit. If you have something to say to me, come and tell me."

The freckled guy is the only one of the three who steps forward as he turns to him. The other two remain behind. 

Cowards.

"Does the truth offend you?" the freckled one asks.

"Uh, another constipated one. You'd better go and make an effort on the toilet. And take your friends along with you; squirrel-face is already shitting himself, I can see it on his face."

"This Underground rat is pretty ordinary…" the guy replies as he smiles with some airs of superiority that Levi recognizes very, very well, so much so that he doesn't react.

Because he doesn't care.

He can say whatever he wants about him, literally whatever.

It doesn't bother him in the least, not coming from a guy who, in the Underground, wouldn't have lasted half a day alive with that attitude.

"You don't talk, rat? Do you know how to talk without saying things related to the shit you grew up in? Or does Erwin have to permit you even that?" the freckle-faced blond continues.

Erwin…?

Levi hears the guy burst out laughing.

"I see…" this one replies after the silence that Levi, he understands, shouldn't have allowed. "I guess the rumor is true. That would explain a lot…"

"Levi, please don't listen to them," Ilse mumbles at his side without letting go of his arm at any point. "They just…"

"Let's see, you miserable, tell me what rumor you're talking about and I'll answer you with complete honesty," Levi says. 

He feels Ilse's hand squeeze him tighter.

"You haven't heard anything?"

"No."

"Really?"

"We are soldiers, not old gossipy women who run into each other at the fair while picking out vegetables to move their bowels."

The redhead swallows.

"Laurence, give it up," he says to the freckled blond. "If the rumor is true he can…"

"I don't give a fuck, Boris," this Laurence answers. 

"Cut it out, you're giving him too much importance. This midget doesn't deserve it, his strength is just people's exaggeration!" the one with the bangs exclaims.

"No, Porl. I can't stand this… Someone has to tell him! It's not like he's fucking King Fritz so he gets all this praise all the time! Who the fuck does he think he is?!" Laurence shouts, who is evidently insisting on losing a couple of teeth. "There are reports from the last expedition that said he killed ten titans; others, that he killed eight or twelve or seven. If the rumor is true, then both that blondie bastard and this shitty midget should be court-martialed and thrown out of the military. The Survey Corps can't-!"

 _Blondie bastard_.

Levi just listens up to that point.

What follows is fuzzy. He thinks he hears Ilse shouting his name, thinks he hears squirrel-face shouting _look out!_ But no, he's not sure, not of that or anything else.

All he feels is that his body lunges, that he raises one leg, and that a huge arm wraps around his neck and stops him in his tracks.

Just then the scene appears before him once more. 

Laurence is surrounded by his friends, who cover him with their arms; the three of them look at him in horror. Ilse is no longer at his side, but in front of these guys, asking them, not without some embarrassment, to please leave. 

Behind him, Mike Zacharias proves to him once again that he's the strongest soldier in the entire Survey Corps by holding him firmly.

"Easy, Levi," he whispers in his ear before turning to the rest. His tone is not that of someone asking for something, but of someone who is demanding everything he says. "Guys, get Laurence out of here. I won't mention this in any report as long as you leave at this very moment."

Furious, Laurence tries to move forward.

"But Leader…!"

"Rumors are rumors and nothing else," Mike says. He's relentless when he speaks. "What amazes me is that you actually think that rumor is true. I'm sorry if you haven't had a chance to see Levi's talent in action; no one wants to see it, no one wants it to be necessary for Levi to show it because the corps is trying to move forward without a fight as indicated by the new tactic created by Erwin Smith, but by questioning Levi you question Erwin, which means you question your future commander. That rumor does hold some truth, Laurence, so please be more observant; Levi's future promotion is inevitable, it's what humanity's strongest soldier deserves."

"But is that…!"

"Leave before I take you to Commander Shadis. It's your squad leader who is talking to you. Obey."

After clenching his fists and teeth, Laurence finally calms down. He whispers a _yes, sir_ , and leaves followed by his friends. Ilse looks at them, confused.

"Follow me. We need to talk," Mike says as he releases him and walks away.

Levi sees how Ilse combs her hair only to smile sheepishly and return to her seat.

Without further ado, Levi turns around and walks behind Mike.

They stop at the stables. No one is around; they are alone with the horses. Levi sees Mike rub his nose as he turns to him.

"Nice place to talk, having that potent nose," Levi exclaims.

He trusts that instinct is not failing him; he detects no malicious intent on Mike's behalf, so maybe that comment achieves its purpose.

Relaxing the tension.

Mike smiles.

Yeah, his instinct is right.

"The rumor has two versions," he explains to him. "Some say it's because he has you under threat for crimes you committed and is taking advantage of you against your will; others, that you are actually afraid that some facts about your past will come to light and are looking to make sure you stay on the outside by going unnoticed, but the root is the same: people notice that you have become Erwin's right-hand man, that you help Erwin even in cleaning his office and his room, this added to the fact that you were the one chosen to accompany him to Mitras… These rumors try to explain why you are so subservient to him."

Levi frowns.

"And what does that have to do with the promotion you mentioned?"

Mike rubs his nose once more. Evidently, no, he didn't pick a good place to talk given the hypersensitivity of his sense of smell.

"What they're saying is that Erwin will give you that promotion because you're his thug, that he's building you a profile to justify it, and that doing so benefits his interests as a contender to replace Shadis (remember, no official announcements have been made yet). This means that, according to them, Erwin is exaggerating in his reports to inflate your image."

"I see…"

He doesn't show it, but as with Hanji, he's relieved to know that the rumor doesn't relate to what is really going on between them. Though the fact that there are rumors is not something positive. 

But he also doesn't want to stop cleaning his office and helping him, he understands. He doesn't want to stop serving his future commander.

He _enjoys_ being his thug. It doesn't make him feel inferior, not when his bond with Erwin is founded on the concept of equality born of trust.

The rest are explanations he owes no one. 

They can all go fuck themselves.

"You were a criminal, Levi, and you were very good at your profession," Mike says after a moment of silence. "No one understands how or why you became so attentive. It was almost all of a sudden."

Levi has enough street smarts when it comes to reading people to notice that Mike is as intrigued as the morons who believe these rumors, but finding what they say stupid, probably because he trusts Erwin as much as he does, he cannot find an explanation for what is going on.

"And what does your nose tell you?" he asks him.

Because if he brought him to a place where the smell of dung is almost unbearable despite having that nose of his that smells everything in so much detail, it must be for something.

It's because he suspects beyond rumors.

Mike smiles. He does it without exaggeration, without mockery. 

"That the cleanest guy in the entire Survey Corps smells like lotion."

Levi raises an eyebrow.

"Huh?"

"It's none of my business, Levi. I'm not naive enough not to realize that you won't say anything no matter how much I ask. But take this advice from someone who has been here for years: it's up to us to be careful about what we should be careful about."

In short, he knows.

Mike knows that he and Erwin are lovers, even if he doesn't like that word to describe his bond with Erwin. But, well, technically that is what they are. 

It's the closest word of those that exist outside of them.

The fancy way of saying they fuck.

"I appreciate the advice," Levi says as he puts a hand on his waist. He looks at Mike intently, studying his every reaction. "I'll be careful about what I need to be."

This, as he has just decided, means that he will continue to clean Erwin's office and room. Also, that he will continue to stay by his side to make sure he eats every meal, sleeps, and lives in a clean environment. It means that he will be his thug and defend him against everyone whenever he considers it necessary.

He won't pretend. He doesn't want to, he doesn't feel like it, it's not something that represents him.

But he will try not to let the rumors get to the point of speculating on the truth behind everything.

The fact that they fuck, yeah, and they won't stop any time soon.

He doesn't give a shit about anything else.

Mike nods and leaves. He walks away holding his nose.

He has to control the urge to put the toe of his boot against the face of anyone who dares to question Erwin Smith, the one who is not the one he fucks, but his future commander. Because he can tolerate that they don't recognize his ability to kill titans; he couldn't care less.

But that they question Erwin's judgment is something that he _cannot_ stand.

.

.

.

He takes a deep breath after talking for more than an hour. He has detailed everything before the commander, the meetings, the gala, the budget. He left nothing unsaid.

Or so he thinks.

"What did you think of Dr. Jaeger?" Shadis asks as he does what he does so often, standing up, turning his back to him, and looking at him through the reflection of the window.

Erwin feels nostalgic as he looks at his eyes through the reflection. How calm he feels, how ready he knows he is to assume the commander’s role. 

This reflection doesn't frighten him any more.

Levi has given him so much peace that focusing on his extraordinary role, that tied to the Survey Corps, is easier than ever. 

"Well…" he says after stretching against the backrest. "We didn't get to talk much, he told me he was a little busy with work, but he seemed trustworthy."

The commander looks down. 

"That bastard… Yeah, he's reliable. Maybe the trick I know you're planning will work out and he'll help you to get the information you can use in the Capital."

Erwin doesn't hold back; he smiles.

"You know me very well, Keith."

Shadis laughs. He's still staring at the floor.

"A little."

Feeling relaxed enough, Erwin decides to continue with this slightly more trivial talk. They deserve it after so many minutes of professional discussion.

"He told me that one of his sons wants to join the Survey Corps," he comments.

The commander's eyes open so widely that, when Erwin wants to realize it, is looking at him the same way.

"One of his children? I see, so he adopted the girl…"

He remembers the drawing that Grisha Jaeger looked at with such affection. It had been made by the girl. 

Is she adopted?

"He meant the boy. He mentioned his name, but I'm afraid I don't remember it," he admits.

Shadis frowns so much that his whole face crinkles. 

"Eren," he whispers. "His mother won't leave him, I'm pretty sure of that."

After saying the latter, the commander changes the subject, asks him something regarding the upcoming expedition as he returns to his chair. Erwin is quite shocked, although nothing in his gesture shows it. There is something odd about Keith’s attitude.

He looks as defeated as when they return to the walls after a failed expedition.

His countenance perturbs him, brings back feelings, raises doubts about the peace he feels. Whatever happens, he tells himself, he must remain like this, not let himself get carried away by emotions incompatible with his mission.

Shoulders held high, the human and the commander, perfectly balanced.

Even if guilt chokes him.

Even if the bubble is too tempting, too.

He mustn't make the mistake the commander seems to represent so well with his countenance and nightmares.

He must leave the human in Levi's hands in the pursuit of being the leader this corps needs out there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to part two! THANK YOU FOR GETTING THIS FAR.
> 
> You have no idea how much it means to me. ♥️
> 
> This is a bit of a start to what is the March expedition arc. Now that their relationship is going through a time of deep stability, Erwin and Levi have new challenges ahead of them. 
> 
> We are looking at the transition that will lead to them to become Commander and Captain of the Survey Corps.
> 
> I'm very interested in writing about their relationship with their comrades, as well as how they are perceived by them. Above all, it's about moving forward in their bond and seeing what new difficulties will arise along the way. 
> 
> In short, if the first part was about how Erwin and Levi dealt with themselves in order to create their bond, this second part is about how they deal with their environment together in order to consolidate it.
> 
> It's always about finding a balance, or so I like to think. 
> 
> About Laurence, Boris and Porl, I had no idea what to call them. After understanding that it wasn't worth bashing my head up (?), I decided to name them after former members of The Cure (????). I was going to name Laurence Lol, but LOL. XDDDDDDDDD
> 
> Whenever I need a name for an OC, I'm going to get it from there. XDDDDD
> 
> About Levi and the Underground, after how Flagon treated Levi or Farlan and Isabel during ACWNR, I understood that imagining prejudice and even discrimination was easy, unfortunately. I wanted to think about it from that side: What if Levi's quick promotion created rumors, envy, and unease among certain aspirational soldiers? What if the fact that he came from the Underground spurred disdain from a certain segment? There are always shitty people, there are in every community.
> 
> That's kind of what I'm trying to portray, that although the Survey Corps is a division of the military full of idealists and dreamers, it can also have other kinds of people in its ranks.
> 
> People with ambitions tied to ego rather than duty, you might say. 
> 
> All your comments help me a lot. Thank you for writing them, they make me the happiest human being in the world. ♥️♥♥️♥️ Also thanks for the visits, kudos and bookmarks! We're almost close to 200 bookmarks (counting the private ones)... THANK YOU SO MUCH!
> 
> Sometimes, posting a fic feels very lonely. When you write comments, send kudos and leave fics in bookmarks, somehow you remind me that I don't have to feel lonely here, that I'm sharing it with you, and that you are there, on the other side. Thank you for that, for walking with me during this story. 
> 
> It's a beautiful thing and it makes me very happy. :’)
> 
> I dedicate this chapter to my beautiful Jan. You know why. XD ♥ I love you!
> 
> Thank you so much for everything. I'll update in March by all means. :')


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